


Grad School Prompts

by thestanceyg



Category: Criminal Minds, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:44:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestanceyg/pseuds/thestanceyg
Summary: Prompts to celebrate applying to grad school. EDIT: I am halfway done now and these prompts just keep going to keep me sane.





	1. The Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The actors dated in real life years ago, so perhaps instead of a meet cute, they could have a re-meet cute? "Hey its been years, how are you? Remember that cheesy valentines I sent you when we were 11?" from-Blueberrymayrose

If he was being honest, Spencer was hiding.  Prentiss and Morgan had gotten it into their heads that he needed to get out more, and he knew they were planning on dragging him out tonight.  They were in New York City for a training, and they had basically been on him all day about his plans for the night.  He had disappeared down to a nearby coffee shop and was now sitting in the corner, drinking his sweet, black coffee and watching the crowd.  The door jingled and a man in an old t-shirt, tight jeans, and aviators walked in followed by a woman talking animatedly with her hands.  Whatever she was saying was clearly amusing the man as he shook his head and laughed at her.  Her dark hair was falling out of a high bun, and she was wearing jeans and an over-sized sweater.  A messenger bag hung off her shoulder, obviously straining under the weight of its contents.  As the line crept forward, he continued to look around the café, his coffee nearly gone.  He would have to leave soon and see if he could slink back, hide out somewhere in the hotel, and hope Morgan and Prentiss forgot about their plan.

When he got up to leave, he walked past the table with the woman and man.  She was rather striking close up and oddly familiar.  She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t remember who.

“Spencer?” The woman asked, looking up.  “Spencer Reid?”

He nearly tripped as he quickly turned to face her.  “Err, yes?”

“It’s Darcy, Darcy Lewis?  We used to hang out at the same library.”

“Oh, Darcy!  Hello.”  Now that he had a name, he remembered her. And he remembered the ridiculous crush he had on her.  Hopefully this wouldn’t be too awkward.

“It’s been forever,” Darcy said in a rush.  “How _are_ you?  What are you up to?  Do you have time?  Can you sit?”

“Oh, sure,” he said taking one of the open seats at their table.  “I’ve been good.  I work for the FBI now.”

Darcy turned to the man she was with, and Spencer noticed how incredibly fit the man was.  His biceps were huge.  “Clint, this is Spencer.  Spencer, this is my friend Clint.  I always knew Spencer was going to do something amazing with his life.”  The man nodded to him in greeting while Darcy continued.  “Spencer was always so smart and talented.  Sometimes he would show me magic tricks,” she sighed.  “It was awesome.”

“What about you?” He asked.  “What are you up to?”

“I’m mostly a wrangler,” she said.  “Like today, my job is to babysit this lug so he doesn’t hurt himself further while he’s on medical leave.”

“I’m pretty sure Jane just said that to get you out of the lab, D,” Clint said.

“Think whatever you need to,” Darcy said condescendingly while patting Clint’s arm.

“You work in a lab?” Spencer asked.  Darcy had never struck him as the scientist type.

“Sort of,” she said, sipping her coffee.  “My boss is a scientist, and I mostly work for her, but sometimes others ask me to do special projects like Clint over here.”

“You wish you were doing me,” Clint said with a leer.

Darcy smacked his arm and said, “In your dreams.  So not my type.”  She turned back to him and asked, “Oh my god, do you remember that Valentine I gave you back when we were 11 or 12?”

Spencer did remember that.  He had been working hard on a paper for one of his courses when she had slipped up beside him and left the envelope next to him, dashing away just as quickly as she had come.  He had saved his work and picked up the envelope, his name scrawled in loopy letters on the front with a heart underneath it.  The flap hadn’t been sealed, just tucked in.  He slid his finger under the flap, curious what Darcy had left for him.  Inside was a postcard.  On one side was a picture of Captain Kirk with the words “Did you set your looks to stunning?” He had laughed a little but also blushed furiously.  On the back she had written “Beam me up, hottie!  Love, Darcy”.  He still had the card somewhere.  “I remember,” he said, hopefully without blushing.

“I had such a crush on you,” Darcy said.  Spencer sat up straighter in his chair.  He hadn’t known that.  “I spent a lot of time picking just the right card and was so embarrassed when I realized you weren’t interested.”  Spencer just stared at her.  Not interested?  He had been very interested.

“I thought you were just being nice,” he said slowly.  “I didn’t think it meant anything besides being friendly.”

“Huh,” Darcy said sounding genuinely perplexed.  “Why would I give someone a card if I wasn’t interested?”

“I don’t think you understand how few Valentines I received that weren’t because people were giving them to everyone.  In fact, until you set me straight, I don’t think I got any that were truly meant as Valentines.”

Darcy fixed him with a look that he couldn’t read.  Then she sort of shook herself and asked, “Can you make sure Clint stays put and doesn’t do anything crazy?  I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Spencer said, bewildered at the sudden change of direction. He looked to Clint while Darcy stood and left.  Clint was looking him over.  Spencer knew when he was being evaluated.  Clint pulled a card out of his pocket, scribbled something on it, and slid it to Spencer.

“You’re her type,” he said.  “That’s her number.  You should call her.”

Spencer took the card and looked at the number before flipping it over to see what Clint had written on.  It was a business card.  Sort of.  There was no real contact information.  It simply said “Clint Barton, Hawkeye. @arrows-n-coffee.”  Spencer looked up at the man.  He had never seen a good picture of Hawkeye, but Clint definitely had the right general look to be him.  “Are you…?”

“Yes,” Clint said.

“And Darcy works with you?”

“All of us to some degree,” Clint said.  “So, don’t fuck it up.”

Spencer swallowed hard.

“What do you do with the FBI?” Clint asked as his eyes sharp.

“I work for the BAU,” he said, clearing his throat a little.

“Aren’t you a bit young for that?”

“I have three doctorates,” Spencer said. “I’m a geographic and linguistic analyst mostly.”  Clint continued to stare him down, and it was starting to make him very uncomfortable.  “When I met Darcy I was finishing up high school and applying to college.  I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up.”  Spencer wanted to kick himself.  Why had he said that?

“You’ll do,” Clint said with a smirk as Darcy rejoined them. 

“Holy tense-balls Batman,” Darcy said as she looked between them.  “Everything all right here?”

“Completely fine,” Clint said, eyes on Spencer.  “Dr. Reid here was just telling me about his job.”

“Doctor?” Darcy said, her eyes lighting up.  “You got your PhD like you wanted to?”

“Umm, three actually,” he said shyly.

“Shut up!” She said lightly punching his arm.  “Congrats!  That’s awesome!  I need to take you out for a drink.  What are you doing tonight?”

Clint smirked at him as he stammered, “Oh, err, nothing.  I’m pretty sure some of my colleagues were going to try and force me to go somewhere with them.”

“Too bad for them!” She practically sang. “You have a date!”  Suddenly her good mood vanished.  “Oh my god.  Do you have a girlfriend?  Should I not have said that?”

Clint raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.  “No, no girlfriend,” Spencer said as his face grew hot again.

“Hand me your phone,” Darcy demanded.  He pulled it out of his pocket, unlocked it, and slid it over to her.  She immediately started typing, and in the blink of an eye he had his phone back.  “I added myself to your contacts and sent myself a text so I’d have your number,” she said.  “We have to get going because Clint needs to check in at medical to see if he’s released from babysitting, but you’ll call, right?”  The worry that he wouldn’t was clear in her voice.

“Of course,” he said.  “As soon as I know that I’m done for the day I’ll give you a call and we can meet up.”

Darcy’s face lit up the same way it used to all those years ago and he felt himself fall all over again.  Darcy and Clint got up so he stood too.  Clint held his hand out to shake.  His grip was strong and a touch threatening.  Darcy gave a half wave and then they were out the door.  Spencer pulled out his phone and looked at the text Darcy had sent herself.  _Drinks at 8?_

Drinks at 8 sounded perfect.  His phone chimed and he looked down.  _I’d love to_.  She had replied to the text she sent herself.  He couldn’t wait to tell Prentiss and Morgan he couldn’t join them tonight because he already had plans.


	2. Coffee Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A is in a public place and temporarily leaves their things where they are seated so they can use the bathroom. When A returns, A notices B putting their phone back on the table. A demands to know what they were doing with the phone. B tells them the phone was ringing nonstop and it was bothering everyone. Also, “Your friend is drunk and I think they want to sleep with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for stateofconstantconfusion. Happy birthday!

Darcy was having a not so great Friday night.  Everyone else was out drinking, but she had a paper due Monday and it was refusing to be written.  She knew that it was going to take the entire weekend to slog through this, so here she was, in a coffee shop at nine o’clock at night staring frustratingly at a blank screen. She had been here since 5, and was working on coffee number three.  Coffee number three, her bladder suddenly reminded her, was a lot of coffee.  She looked at the mess of her things on the table and sighed.  Whatever.  She’d be right back.

As Darcy walked back from the bathroom, she noticed a man placing her phone back into her bag.  What the hell?  She stomped her way over to him and put her hands on her hips.  “What the fuck, dude?” She demanded.

“Your phone was ringing non-stop.  It was annoying everyone,” he said with a shrug.  “I was going to silence it, but I accidently answered instead, which I’m really sorry about.  Whoever is ‘assface’ in your phone sounded like he was drunk and looking to hook up.”

Darcy deflated and slumped into the chair facing the guy.  “Ugh, I am so sorry.”  She ran her fingers through her hair.  “He’s persistent when he’s drunk as far as talking to me.  He gets oddly lonely even if there are a ton of people.  Did it sound bad?  I have a paper to write, but if it was bad…”

“He wasn’t crying?”  The man said, clearly unsure where Darcy drew the “bad” line. 

“He’s fine then,” Darcy said, relieved.  “I’m sorry that I interrupted you evening.”

“It’s fine,” the man said with a smile.  His smile lit up his face.  “What’s your paper on?”

Darcy groaned.  “It’s supposed to be about disparate government systems creating norms for effective communication, but really it’s just a blank page.”

“Sounds like a fascinating topic,” he said.  Her eyes searched for the sarcasm, but he seemed to be genuine.

“It really is,” she said.  “And I have a ton of research that I had fun reading, but I just can’t seem to form a single, academic coherent thought whenever I sit down to write it.”

“Talk to me about it.”

“Huh?”

“Talk to me about what you’ve learned and record our conversation.  I bet that will help break your writer’s block.”

“You actually want to talk to me about my research?”

“Why not? It sounds fascinating.  All I was doing was reading.”

Darcy stared him down for a moment and then said, “Huh.  You really mean that.”

“Of course I do,” he said perplexed.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just not used to anyone being interested in my studies.”  She smiled and held out her hand.  “I’m Darcy.”

He took her hand.  His fingers were long and slender and cool, almost cold.  His grip was soft but not weak.  “Spencer,” he said.

“Well Spencer, I am totally going to take you up on that offer, but I insist on at least buying you a cup of coffee.”

Three hours later, the café was ready to close and she and Spencer were still deep in conversation.

“I’m sorry,” the barista said, “but we’re closed now.”

“I am so sorry!” Darcy said.  “I totally lost track of time.  We’ll get out of here then.”  She scrambled to clean up her notes and books, Spencer helping her get things thrown in her bag.  She shot him a grateful look and he gave her a shy smile in response.  _Oh shit_ , she realized. _He’s adorable, and I’m in trouble._

She flung her bag over her shoulder and pushed in her chair, making her way to the door.  Spencer followed her, holding the door for her when she struggled a bit under the sheer mass of her things.

Once they were outside she said, “Thanks.  You were amazing.  Your help!  I mean your help was amazing.  I know I would have stayed blocked if you hadn’t helped.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said with another smile that made her stomach flutter.  “It was fun.”

“I come here most nights,” she blurted out.  “You know, in case you were wanting to avoid me after I monopolized your evening.”

“Why would I want to avoid you?”  He seemed legitimately curious.  “I enjoyed this.”

“Oh, well, I come here most nights then, if you want to run into me again.”

Oh god his smile was too much. “Maybe I will,” he said, coy for the first time since they met.

She blushed and looked away to hide her smile.  “I hope so Spencer.”

“Me too Darcy,” he said with a small wave.  “Have a good night.”

“You too,” she said, returning the wave and turning to head the opposite direction.  She was so screwed.


	3. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jadziabear prompted:  
> Darcy/Spencer trope prompt - trapped together (in an elevator, or wherever you like)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I had a wicked head cold all last week on top of Grease rehearsal, so I didn't have the energy to work on these prompts, but I have plans for a few prompts throughout this week. I hope you enjoy!

Darcy had no problem admitting she was hiding.  Because she was.  And that was totally normal.  Not weird at all.  No sir.  Just another Tuesday.

Okay, it was absolutely strange and not her normal thing, but sometimes a girl just needs to get away, ya know?  And today was one of those days.  It might have something to do with her dislike of all things government related after her encounters with Shield.  Sure she had a political science degree, but there was a reason she decided to stick with Jane.  Besides, she totally got to use her knowledge when doing her best as a liaison for Jane and Thor.

She felt a little foolish about hiding in a store room at the FBI, but Jane totally didn’t need her while they discussed the recent threats against her that the Bureau was investigating, and she could only take so many snide remarks and leers before she was out.  She had mumbled that she was going to go find some coffee and then ducked into the supply room.

A supply room that apparently locked from the outside that she was now trapped in.  She didn’t know how a door that had been unlocked when she slipped in could have become locked, but she suspected a malfunction of the locking mechanism.  She had pounded on the door, but no one must have been nearby because she had been there for at least fifteen minutes.  And, idiot she was, she had left her phone in her bag with Jane.

She was looking over the pen options when the door suddenly clicked and opened.

“Don’t!” She cried as the door snapped shut behind the newcomer.  “Shut the door,” she finished with a sigh.

“Why not?” He asked.

“Because there’s something wrong with it and now we’re locked in.”  He turned to the door and jiggled the handle. As she predicted, nothing happened.  “See?”

“How long have you been in here?”

“At least fifteen minutes, but I’m not totally sure since I don’t have my phone.  Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Have your phone so we can get someone to help?”

His face fell a bit.  “No.  I didn’t think to take my phone to get a pen.”

“I’m Darcy,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Spencer,” he said, not taking her hand. “I don’t like to shake.”

Darcy dropped her hand awkwardly.  “That’s cool.”

“What department are you from?” He asked as he settled into a corner.

“I’m, uh, not,” she said. “I’m a guest of a guest.”

“What does that mean?”

“My boss is here being interviewed about some threats against her that are being investigated.  I was tired of the constant glares when I made a joke and leers when they thought I wasn’t looking.  I decided to hide out for a bit, and voila.  Here I am.” She was surprised that his eyes didn’t even flick down to her chest when she mentioned the leers.  “What about you?”

“I work for the BAU,” he said as his eyes wandered over the pens next to her.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say more, she said, “So you’re a profiler?”

“Technically yes.  But I actually do more for the linguistic and geographic profiling than the human behavior part.”

“That’s crazy cool,” Darcy said.  “So you can like, analyze how something is written to learn things like where someone is from because of the words or syntax?”

“Yes, actually,” he said as he considered her more closely.  “It’s fascinating how much a person’s word choice can reveal about them.”

“I once wrote a paper about how localized words and phrases can help or hurt politicians during speaking tours, specifically while campaigning.  It’s interesting how some words are considered pandering to an audience while others are simply being in tune.  Most politicians can’t wing this kind of thing.  When they do it tends to have disastrous effects.”

“Yes!” He said, suddenly excited.  “People don’t realize how much words can showcase upbringing.  Using words that are seen as specific to a certain situation often cause those who lived it to be upset by the usage of those who didn’t live it.  Sometimes it can be very useful to use that knowledge to provoke an unsub into revealing more than they intend.”

It was Darcy’s turn to size up her companion.  He was tall and lanky, which was easily identifiable by how his sweater hung off his frame.  His hair was messy like he had pulled his fingers through it a few too many times.  He was definitely her type.  “So how long before someone misses you?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, his lips turning down slightly.  “I didn’t tell anyone I was going, so it might be a while before they realize how long I’ve been gone, and then they probably won’t be sure where I went.  What about you?”

Darcy sighed.  “I doubt the people interviewing Jane will register that I’m gone, and Jane has a tendency to get lost in whatever she’s doing, so it could be a while for me too.”  She patted the floor next to her.  “This cabinet is actually pretty comfy to lean on, so you’re welcome to join me over here.”  She was pleasantly surprised when he only paused momentarily before joining her.

“You mentioned Jane and threats, and your name is Darcy.  Any chance you’re Darcy Lewis?”

Darcy continued staring at the door, weighing her options.  “How do you know that name?” She finally asked.

“I read all of the leaked Shield files.”

“And you happened to remember an inconsequential name like that?”

“I have an eidetic memory,” he shrugged.  “Also, I hardly find it inconsequential that you were present at the first contact with Thor.”

“I signed a million NDAs.  Do you think they’re considered void since everything was leaked?”

“Knowing Shield lawyers and the contracts they write?  No.  But it would be pretty hard to prove you were the source of the information considering it was blasted all over the internet.  They would have to have some sort of audio or video proof, and even then, a jury would potentially find for you since it would be reasonable to assume the contract was voided once Shield themselves released the information.”

“Could you, just, like keep talking to me?”

“Why?”

“Because I find literally everything you say fascinating and you have a nice voice,” she said without blushing.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, “Usually people want me to shut up.”

“Idiots,” she said promptly.  “So keep talking.”

He smiled before launching into a discussion on geographic comfort zones.

***

“Huh,” Penelope said as she looked down at the pair.  “What do you think we should do?”

“Hard to know,” Prentiss replied.  “I mean, they’re super cute and I kind of just want to keep this image forever.”

“Picture then?”

“Definitely.”

As the shutter snapped, Spencer said sleepily, “I can hear you, you know.”

“Then maybe it’s time to wake up your friend.  Her boss has been looking everywhere for her.”

Spencer yawned and slowly sat up, eyes blinking against the light.  Darcy was basically curled up in his lap, his sweater thrown over her like a blanket.

“Why didn’t you slide a note under the door?” Emily asked.  “I mean, this is literally a supply closet.”

Spencer gave a sheepish grin.  “She was smart and pretty so it wasn’t a trial.”

“Ditto,” Darcy mumbled.  “Totes cute.”  Spencer blushed deeply as Darcy slowly uncurled herself from his lap.  “Didn’t you wonder how I could think to give you my number using these supplies but not to save us?”

“Oh, I like her,” Garcia said as she gave a little clap.  “You better be using that number.”


	4. Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For your Grad school prompts (congrats, btw!) I request a Darcy/Spencer story with a side of Penelope/Steve Rogers where Darcy is Tony Stark's Daughter. Bonus points if Darcy and Steve flirt like Penelope and Morgan flirt. Double bonus points if Tony thinks they're serious about the flirting and is absolute horrified. -cmay62
> 
> I think I sent one last time, but if not here it is: Spencer & Darcy are Internet friends. Do as you wish with it :) Congrats on grad school! -tiziano12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope cmay62 and tiziano12 don't mind that I combined their prompts! Thanks for your great suggestions!

_Dear Darcy,_

_I’ve been sent out on business again.  Consulting can be exciting because it’s an always changing world, but sometimes I get sent to the most boring places. I used to think that there were no boring places, only places you hadn’t learned the secrets of, but now I’m not so sure._

_Spencer_

 

_Dear Spencer,_

_I’m kind of jealous of your ability to go to boring places.  I used to live in some pretty boring places, and then my life went a bit crazy.  I definitely have days where I miss the quiet boredom.  Being here does have some perks, though.  I made a new friend and we have loads of fun subverting people’s expectations about us._

_Darcy_

 

_Dear Darcy,_

_I have a friends a bit like that too.  They flirt with each other like mad but it doesn’t really mean anything.  Other people don’t know how to take it, but to them (and the rest of us), it’s just who they are together.  How’s life with your new dad?_

_Spencer_

 

_Dear Spence,_

_Life with dad is strange.  I grew up thinking my dad left when he found out my mom was pregnant, but it turns out he didn’t know about me at all.  It has to be weird for him.  He’s funny about my friend, Roger, and I.  He absolutely believes that our banter is truth and that we are hooking up.  In reality, Roger just met a girl when he was on a business trip and they really hit it off.  You should see his face when he talks about her. He was worried that his crazy work schedule meant he shouldn’t even try, but I told him he had to try.  Maybe I’m a fool, but I always think love is worth it, even if it’s just the possibility of love._

_Darcy_

 

_Dear Darcy,_

_What is life for if not love?  Sounds like you’re a good friend.  It can be hard to take the risk. You can’t be certain you’re not going to hurt them or yourself, but you have to try, and trying is easier with supportive friends.  Sounds like Roger is in for a long distance relationship. It takes strong people to do that.  Is he that strong?  Are you?  Am I?_

_Feeling philosophical,_

_Spencer_

 

_Dear Spencer,_

_Roger is very loyal and he’s definitely a fighter. I’ve talked to his girlfriend on Skype and she seems like a real spitfire, so I think they have a real shot.  Besides, the distance isn’t that far.  As for me, I’d like to think I could do it.  There are lots of ways to fall in love, and not all of them require occupying the same physical space.  Besides, with modern technology, keeping in touch is easy.  I think there’s something to be said for the love letters of yesteryear. As long as you’re willing to be creative, falling in love, and staying in love, is achievable.  But that’s just me.  What about you?_

_Yours,_

_Darcy_

 

_Dearest Darcy,_

_You make some excellent points, and I’m inclined to agree.  There are many ways to say I love you.  Favorite flowers on otherwise ordinary days, little notes filled with affection, small items “just because they remind me of you.”  Talking you up to my friends, smiling every time I say your name, eagerly awaiting your emails and rereading them even though I can recite them from memory.  None of those things require sharing the same space, but they also don’t replace it._

_Also yours,_

_Spencer_

***

“Dad, seriously,” Darcy said as she followed him round the lab.  He loved to try and shut her out by working and making her fight for attention.  “Dad!” she yelled, her voice a sharp staccato.  “I just want to talk to you about something that I need help with!”

“I can’t have this conversation with you,” he said as he flipped down the visor of his welding mask.  “And you’re not wearing proper attire for the lab.  You need to go.”  Darcy sighed and mumbled to herself, “I just think I’m in love and I’m scared.”  She walked out of the lab dejected.  She was sick of him avoiding the conversation he thought they were going to have (which was different from the one they were actually going to have), but obviously talking today wasn’t going to happen.

“He still being a mule?” Steve asked in the hallway.

“Yup,” she said popping the “p” and rolling her eyes.  “You know what he thinks I want to talk to him about, don’t you sugar?”

“I assume he thinks you want to talk about us,” he said, a finger drawing a line in the air between them, “and your constant need to discuss defiling a national icon?”

“You know I’d be more than happy to show you my patriotism.  It’s practically my job as an American citizen.”

“Is patriotism code for dirty, vile things you’ve found online at urban dictionary?”

“Patriotism is never dirty, though it usually is fairly public,” she said with a wink as they got into the elevator.

“It’s you saying things like that, that make him think there’s something here.”

“Are you saying I don’t rock your world on a consistent basis?”

“I’m saying,” he said, sliding into his Captain voice, “you’re a tactical genius when it comes to pranks and pop culture and there’s no one else I’d rather troll the team with.”

“That was quite the inspiring little speech,” she laughed.  “But you know that voice doesn’t work on me.”

“You know who it does work on…” he said with a wicked smile.

“I will absolutely tell Penelope what you said if you decide to keep talking.”  Steve audibly snapped his mouth shut.  “That’s what I thought.”

They walked in companionable silence until they got to the communal kitchen.  Darcy got out the ingredients to make Jane lunch, and Steve sat at the counter.

“So when are you going to meet him?”

“Meet who?” She asked, distracted.

“Your internet friend,” Steve said as he grabbed the milk she had gotten out and poured it into one of the coffee mugs that had been sitting on the counter.

“Is that even clean?” she asked.

Steve shrugged.  “Serum,” was all he said in response.

“Just because you won’t get sick from it doesn’t mean it’s not disgusting.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“I’m worried about my friend.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“No, I’m talking about Penelope who might kiss your gross mouth after you used goodness knows whose mug.”

Steve looked at her, offended.  “I would brush my teeth.  I’m a gentleman.”

“If your definition of gentleman includes basic hygiene, I’m seriously going to throw up.  And then, once I’m done with that, I’m going to tell Penelope to break up with you.”

“Listen, just because you don’t have the balls to meet your internet boyfriend…”

“Excuse you,” Darcy said cutting him off and waving a giant knife in his face, “first of all, I don’t appreciate you equating bravery to balls, which shrink up into your body if it’s even just a touch cold.  Second, he’s not my boyfriend, and third, I think I’ve earned being cautious.  I’m Tony’s ‘long lost daughter’ for Christ sakes.”

Steve sighed.  He knew it had been hard for her when she found out a year ago when it had been revealed in the Shield info dump.  Tony hadn’t known about her either, and there they were, learning about each other at the same time as the whole world.  It had been a messy time for all involved.

“Why don’t you come out with Penelope and I tonight?” He said, changing tactics.  She had a coworker she had been dying to set Darcy up with.  Maybe Darcy would let that happen, or maybe it would push her into meeting the guy she had been pining over for the better part of six months.  Either way, it was a win.

Darcy made a face.  “I don’t feel like being a third wheel, thank you very much.”

“We’re just going to dinner because her team’s in town.  I’m literally following them back to DC once they wrap things up here, so it’s not like you’re taking away our personal time.  This is just a bonus night.  You won’t be a third wheel.  She wants to see you too.”  He all but whined the last part in a plaintive voice that Darcy was a sucker for.  “Besides, she’s already bringing a friend and I don’t want that person to feel like a third wheel.  I have to bring you.  For their sake.”

“Fine,” she said as she put all the sandwich materials away and arranged the milk and lunch on a tray.  “But you’re buying my dinner.”

He took a big bite of the sandwich she had slid across to him.  She always made him lunch too if he sat with her while she cooked for Jane. “It’s a date,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t want to hear about it!” Tony yelled as he immediately turned back around and headed out of the kitchen.  Darcy sighed. No way she was going to convince him she and Steve weren’t a thing now.

***

_Darling Spencer,_

_I know you said you were on a business trip and might be too busy to respond, but today has been kind of stressful, so I wanted to write.  My dad continues to be ridiculous.  I try to cut him slack because it’s not his fault that mom didn’t tell him about me.  I mean, he’s learning how to be a dad when I’m already grown up, but man does he want to put his head in the sand sometimes.  He’s convinced I’m dating Roger, but we’re just good friends.  Besides, he works with my dad and that would be super weird.  But because he thinks there’s something between us, he thinks that any time I want to talk to him it’s about that and he gets all weird.  I really just want someone to talk to me about things…people…that are on my mind.’_

_Ugh.  That all sounds so maudlin.  In other news, Roger’s actual girlfriend is in town.  They invited me to join them for dinner tonight, but I really didn’t want to be a third wheel.  He told me she was going to bring a friend, and then I made him promise to pay too, so I think I’m going to go.  Hopefully my dull mood will improve by then.  Don’t want to make a bad impression._

_Yours,_

_Darcy_

 

Darcy hit send on the message before she could talk herself out of it.  She and Spencer had been emailing each other for a while now, and she hoped she wasn’t reading things spectacularly wrong.  She was certain they had been cautiously flirting, but her track record with this kind of stuff wasn’t great.  Sure, she could flirt with Steve, but that was harmless fun.  That was just the way they spoke to each other.  This was something that was possibly real, and she desperately wanted it to be. Steve had told her she was over thinking it, but she wasn’t sure.  Spencer was smart and witty, and always had a cool fact or interesting quote to share.  She had serious concerns that she wasn’t good enough for him.

They didn’t share any identifying information, which included jobs for both of them.  Some days she tried to imagine who he was that knowing his job might give him away, but she always got the feeling he was more of a Bond than a celebrity.

A knock at her door roused her from her thoughts.

“J?”

“It’s Captain Rogers, Miss.”

“Let him in?”

Darcy grabbed her coat and headed out to the main room in her suite.  Leaving the tower wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but sometimes leaving still freaked her out a bit.  Tony had been amazingly understanding when the whole Shield leak had happened.  He had swooped in and offered her and Jane sanctuary at the tower where they could be safe, but also have privacy.  She was hesitant, but his interest in keeping her safe won her over.  He didn’t mind if she didn’t want to move, but he was going to do anything he could to make sure she wasn’t in danger, and that was when she had decided to fling herself into treating him like the father she had never had.  That was also when she met Steve.  He had helped her pass the time when she was too petrified to leave, and he was hitting brick wall after brick wall trying to find Bucky. They had become fast friends and the rest was history. 

She had been the one to convince him that he should give the quirky girl he had met on a fact finding mission in DC a chance.  And now look at them!  Almost five months together and deliriously happy.  She wondered if she would feel that way with Spencer.  If they were even flirting, that was.

“Earth to Darcy,” Steve was saying in front of her.

“Oof,” she puffed as she smacked into him.  “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

“Obviously,” he said as he took her coat and held it out so she could shrug into it.  “What were you thinking about?  Or should I ask who?”

Darcy smacked his arm and made her way to the door.  “Whatever.  I’ve seen you go completely heart eyes over Penelope.  No judgement.”

“I wasn’t judging.  I was just noticing.”  Darcy didn’t reply, instead she stepped into the waiting elevator (praise be to her sentient AI brother).  “Penelope’s excited to see you,” he said.

“Are we getting dinner somewhere with tequila?”

Steve gave a small laugh. “She picked the place, so I would bet yes.”  Darcy relaxed.  Maybe this evening wouldn’t be as bad as she feared.

They were meeting at the Botanical Garden because Penelope wanted to walk around it a bit before they went to dinner.  The journey to the garden was quick, and before she knew it, she was hugging Penelope and being introduced to her friend Reid.  He was tall and thin, and had shaggy hair that sometimes fell into his eyes.  He seemed a bit embarrassed to be there too, and Darcy liked him all the more for it.

Once introductions were done, Steve had offered Penelope his arm, and they had started to stroll, leaving Darcy and Reid to follow.

“Did you know there are fifty different gardens and a library that houses 550,000 volumes here?” he asked.

“I didn’t, but now I do,” she said.  It sounded just like something Spencer would say.  “Which part interests you the most?”

“The library.  It contains some rare texts that I would love to see.”

“Then let’s go look!” she said, taking his hand and pulling him down a path.

“Is it this way?” He asked, looking around.

“No idea,” she laughed.  “But let’s find out!”

“You remind me a lot of a friend,” he said with a small laugh as they took the path away from Steve and Penelope.

“Oh?” She asked, wondering why she felt a tiny pang of jealousy.

“Oddly enough, her name is Darcy too.”

“Huh.  I wonder what the odds of that are.”

“At the height of its popularity in the 70s, 148 children per million were named Darcy. It’s popularity since then has waned.  While it’s not unusual to meet two people with the same name, it is strange that you would be so similar to the person I know.”

“You remind me of someone too,” she said as they followed a sign pointing them to the library.  “He’s basically a pen pal.  We’ve never met, but I feel like the two of you would either get on very well because you’re so similar, or end up in a duel of iron wit.”

“You’ve never met your pen pal?” he asked, looking at her sideways.

“No.  But I hope to.”

“Why haven’t you yet?”

“Honestly?  I’m scared.  I’m worried he’ll figure out who I am and bolt, or he’ll decide I’m not good enough for him and bolt.  And I have no idea why I’m telling you this.  I'm so sorry for getting way too personal way too fast.”

Reid didn’t say anything for a moment.  “You said ‘figure out who I am.’”

“Yes….”

“It’s just….I mean, Steve is Steve Rogers, right?”

“You’re not going to be weird about that, are you?”

“No.  I mostly don’t care.  I care in that I’m worried for Penelope if something should happen to him, but not in any other way. It’s just if he’s _that_ Steve then you must be Darcy Lewis.”

“How’d you make that leap?” Darcy asked, resigned to whatever awkwardness was about to commence.

“For a while there was speculation in the papers that you were together because whenever you left the tower it was with him.  Penelope thought that was hilarious, and I think I see why.”

“I felt so bad about all of that.  Penelope was a total doll about it all, though.  She knew what was going on.  I wish I had her confidence.”

“You seem pretty confident to me.”

“Maybe.  But she’s so secure in who she is and her relationship with Steve.  Meanwhile I can’t get up the nerve to tell my pen pal my real name and that oh, by the way, I’d maybe like to have his babies.”  Reid tripped next to her and she grabbed his arm to steady him.  “You okay?”

“Yes.  I just didn’t expect that sentence to end the way it did.”

“Sorry. I’m oversharing.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.  I’m a bit surprised, though.”

“Oh?  By what?”

“Well, I guess I need a clarification first. When you said you wanted to have his babies, did you mean you just want to have sex?”

“IthinkI’minlovewithhim.”

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I think I’m in love with him,” she said with a dramatic sigh.  “When I said I wanted to have his babies, sure, yeah, sex, but more the love and marriage thing.”

“But you’ve never met him?”

“We’ve been writing each other for six months.”

“But do you know what he looks like?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Reid went quiet beside her, and she was certain she had finally said too much or he thought she was crazy.  After a long pause he asked, “Do you think he loves you too?”

“I’m remarkably terrible at knowing these things.  I _think_ we’ve been flirting for the better part of four months, but I’m also worried that I’m reading too much into the words.  That I’m seeing what I want to see.  But every time I sign an email ‘yours’ I mean it.  I know Steve and Penelope were trying to set us up, and you seem like a really great guy, but you’re not my Spencer.”

“Actually,” he stared to say, but stopped when his phone rang.  She waited patiently while he had a quick conversation.  “That was Penelope. She and Steve are waiting at the entrance for us.”

***

Spencer sometimes had a very lonely life. His work was time consuming and sometimes friendship prohibitive.  His closest friends were his coworkers.  Which he was fine with.  It was just that they had families and that meant less time they could spend with him.  He kept himself busy, of course, but sometimes he wished for more contact.  Then he had met Darcy online.  They had hit it off pretty quickly on a Doctor Who message board, and soon they were emailing each other regularly.  Sometimes her emails were the only highlight of his day.

They had agreed early on that there would be no identifying information.  She had asked for it, but he had been relieved.  Sometimes his job created a certain expectation for people.  He got the distinct impression that something similar was true for her too.  But neither of them ever pressed, and he was happy for it.  He was quickly falling for her, and he wasn’t certain he cared to stop himself.

_Dearest Darcy,_

_Another business trip is upon me. This time it’s not all that far, and it’s not to a boring place.  Will wonders never cease? Even our tech is going.  Apparently she’s dating a guy that lives in the city we’re going to, and it basically cost nothing to bring her along.  Plus, I personally think that having her around can be a huge help sometimes.  She’s really good at what she does and it can be fascinating to watch her work._

_Anyway, this is a long way of saying that I might not be able to respond all that quickly when you write.  And please do.  It will probably be the highlight of a crazy day to see something new from you._

_Yours,_

_Spencer_

***

“Speeeencer,” Penelope whined at him.  “Please?”

“Why me?” He asked even though he already knew the answer.  He wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

“Because Steve is bringing a friend and I don’t want her to feel like a third wheel.”

“And now the real reason.”

“Fine,” she ground out.  “I also think you’ll really like her.”

“I don’t need to meet someone, Penelope.”

“Yes, you do.  I think you’ll really like her.  She’s funny and sweet, and very pretty.”

“It’s just…,” Spencer trailed off, unsure if he wanted to say what he was about to say.  “I’ve already met someone.”

“O. M. G.” Penelope squealed.  “When?  Where?  How?”

“I will come tonight if you let me have a reprieve from those questions until we’re back in DC.”  He knew that she wouldn’t stop until she had all the details.  At least this way he could control where and how he told her everything.  (And he would.  Tell her everything that is.  She was very good at getting him to spill his secrets.)

She pursed her lips in thought.  “Okay.  But be nice to Steve’s friend, okay?”

“Does she know she’s being set up?”

“Honestly?  I don’t know.”

“I just don’t want to hurt her feelings if she was excited for this.”

“She’s a resilient girl.  She’s been through worse.  She’ll be fine.”

Spencer was surprised at the sudden pang of sadness for a girl he had never met.  Garcia’s words had been tinged with such truth that he knew that whatever she had been through that was worse was certainly much worse.  He silently promised to make sure she had a nice time tonight.  That’s what Darcy would want him to do.

Two hours later, he and Garcia were sitting outside the entrance to the Botanical Garden.  Neither of them had been before, and he was excited to walk around a bit before they headed off to dinner.  He wondered if he could convince the group to check out the library.  Probably not.

“There they are,” she said, nudging his shoulder with hers.  He took in the pair as they walked up.  The man was decidedly huge.  In a muscly, imposing sort of way.  He also looked very familiar.  Spencer would be interested in hearing that “how we met” story if he was right about the identity of the man.  Perhaps that would be a good bargaining chip for when he had to tell her about Darcy.

The woman was gorgeous.  She wasn’t particularly dressed up, but her face was lit up as she laughed at something Steve said.  He wasn’t certain he had ever seen a more beautiful woman.

“Steve!” Garcia said as she hugged him and pecked him on the cheek.  “Darcy!” she cried, embracing the woman.  _Darcy?!_   “Steve, Darcy, this is”

“-Reid,” he cut her off, softening it with a smile.  “Nice to finally meet the elusive Steve, and a pleasure to make your acquaintance too, Darcy.”

“Thanks for meeting us here.  I’ve always wanted to see the gardens.”

“Then see them you shall,” Steve said, offering his arm to Penelope.  She linked her arm in his, and they started wandering down the path.

“Did you know there are fifty different gardens and a library that houses 550,000 volumes here?” he asked her, hoping to start conversation. 

“I didn’t, but now I do,” she said.  It sounded genuine and earnest.  “Which part interests you the most?”

“The library.  It contains some rare texts that I would love to see,” he admitted, wondering if she would think that was dull. He oddly found himself wanting to impress her simply because she had the same name as the woman he had been writing.

“Then let’s go look!” she said, taking his hand to pull him down the path.  He let her take his hand. It was warm and soft and felt oddly right tangled in his.

“Is it this way?” He asked, trying to distract himself from how easily she disconcerted him.

“No idea,” she laughed in a musical way. “But let’s find out!”

“You remind me a lot of a friend,” he said.  And she did.  His Darcy was also irreverent the same way this one was.  Thinking about his Darcy made him feel bad about being so interested in this one.

“Oh?”

“Oddly enough, her name is Darcy too,” he said a bit lamely.

“Huh.  I wonder what the odds of that are.”

“At the height of its popularity in the 70s, 148 children per million were named Darcy. It’s popularity since then has waned.  While it’s not unusual to meet two people with the same name, it is strange that you would be so similar to the person I know.”  Even her vocal cadence was similar to the writing in the emails he received.

“You remind me of someone too.  He’s basically a pen pal.  We’ve never met, but I feel like the two of you would either get on very well because you’re so similar, or end up in a duel of iron wit.”  Spencer’s brain shorted out for a minute. Was it possible?

“You’ve never met your pen pal?” he asked, trying not to sound overly interested in her answer.

“No.  But I hope to.”  He blew out the breath he had been holding.

“Why haven’t you yet?”

“Honestly?  I’m scared.  I’m worried he’ll figure out who I am and bolt, or he’ll decide I’m not good enough for him and bolt.  And I have no idea why I’m telling you this.  I am so sorry for getting way too personal way too fast.”

If she was his Darcy, none of those things were things she needed to worry about.  She was certainly good enough (too good even) for him.  But then his brain latched onto her other fear. “You said ‘figure out who I am.’”

“Yes….”

“It’s just….I mean, Steve is Steve Rogers, right?”  Steve _Rogers._   Like Darcy’s Roger.

“You’re not going to be weird about that, are you?”

“No.  I mostly don’t care.”  He realized that might sound a bit callous, so he added, “I care in that I’m worried for Penelope if something should happen to him, but not in any other way. It’s just if he’s _that_ Steve then you must be Darcy Lewis.”

“How’d you make that leap?” Darcy asked. 

He could tell she was worried what he might do with this information.  And no wonder, her life had been tabloid gossip ever since the Shield info dump a year ago.  “For a while there was speculation in the papers that you were together because whenever you left the tower it was with him.  Penelope thought that was hilarious, and I think I see why.”

“I felt so bad about all of that.  Penelope was a total doll about it all, though.  She knew what was going on.  I wish I had her confidence.”

“You seem pretty confident to me.”  And she always had been, at least in her emails.

“Maybe.  But she’s so secure in who she is and her relationship with Steve.  Meanwhile I can’t get up the nerve to tell my pen pal my real name and that oh, by the way, I’d maybe like to have his babies.” Spencer tripped when she said the last part.  It was like his body wanted to do the tumbling that his mind currently felt like it was doing. “You okay?” she asked, her hand resting on his arm to steady him.  He didn’t want her to let go.

“Yes.  I just didn’t expect that sentence to end the way it did.”

“Sorry. I’m oversharing.”

Her sharing didn’t bother him.  It was totally in line with what he knew about his Darcy.  Plus, it was giving him insight he never expected to have. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.  I’m a bit surprised, though.”

“Oh?  By what?”

“Well, I guess I need a clarification first. When you said you wanted to have his babies, did you mean you just want to have sex?”  It wasn’t what he had intended to ask.  He had meant to ask what she had meant by “have his babies,” but his mouth wasn’t cooperating.  She mumbled something at him, but he wasn’t sure what she had said.  “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I think I’m in love with him,” she said.  He almost didn’t hear what she said next, his pulse was beating in his ears too loudly.  “When I said I wanted to have his babies, sure, yeah, sex, but more the love and marriage thing.”

“But you’ve never met him?” He asked, wanting desperately for this Darcy to be _his_ Darcy.

“We’ve been writing each other for six months.” 

The timeline fit.  Now for the part he was somewhat worried about. “But do you know what he looks like?”

“Doesn’t matter.”  Her matter of fact tone lifted a pressure from his chest, and suddenly he felt like he was floating.  He didn’t care what she looked like either, but here she was, breathtakingly beautiful.

He thought very carefully about asking her his next question. “Do you think he loves you too?”

“I’m remarkably terrible at knowing these things.  I _think_ we’ve been flirting for the better part of four months, but I’m also worried that I’m reading too much into the words.  That I’m seeing what I want to see.  But every time I sign an email ‘yours’ I mean it.  I know Steve and Penelope were trying to set us up, and you seem like a really great guy, but you’re not my Spencer.”

_Spencer._   It _was_ his Darcy.  He had to tell her now that he was sure. “Actually,” he stared to say, but stopped when his phone rang.  “Yes?” he answered a bit snippily.

“Hey Reid, It’s Penelope.  Where’d you two run off to?  Steve and I turned around and you were gone.”

“We went in search of the library.”

“You two hit it off?”

_Like you wouldn’t believe._ “We did.”

“Fine, I see how it is.  But you better believe I want the details later.  Meet us at the gate, we’re ready to head to dinner.”

“Okay,” he said dumbly as he hung up.  “That was Penelope. She and Steve are waiting at the entrance for us.”

Darcy started heading back down the path they had been on.  “I’m sorry we didn’t actually make it to the library.”

“That’s okay,” he said, planning how to say what he needed to.  “I still learned plenty.”

Darcy gave him an odd look.  “Oh?”

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me if I just tell you,” he said reaching into his pocket.  “But here.  Look at this.”  He handed her his credentials.

Her fingers brushed his as she took them from him.  He watched her face as she took in everything.  “Spencer?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.  “Your name is Spencer?”

He nodded and took his papers from her.  “And I have a pen pal named Darcy.”

She stopped in the middle of the trail and looked at him.  Her eyes were wide.  “Where did you meet?”

“Online.  Doctor Who forum.  Gallifrey Base.”  Her hand reached out to touch him, but stopped short, hovering mid-air in front of his chest.  He took her hand in his.  “And I’m in love with you too.  There are a million ways to say I love you, and not all of them are words.  I was so scared that I held back.  I said so many other things, but never the one I wanted to say the most.”

They stood there, just staring at each other for what felt like minutes.  It was her.  It was really her.  His Darcy.  And she was in love with him and was right there.  It was a lot to take in.

“Hey?” A voice said awkwardly next to them.

Darcy was the first to react.  “Steve?”

“We were getting worried about you two, so I offered to run and check on you.  But, uh, it seems like things are going fine here.”

“It’s him,” Darcy said softly.  “It’s him, Steve.”

“I…I don’t follow Darce,” he said, looking at Spencer who couldn’t seem to figure out the right words to say.

“My Spencer.”

“Wait.  Your internet boyfriend?”

That seemed to snap both of them out of the trance they had been in.  Darcy smacked Steve’s arm.  “What did I say about that”

“You said he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you two are totally just standing in the middle of the trail staring at each other and holding hands.”

“We didn’t know,” Spencer supplied.  “Until a few minutes ago.  We didn’t know we were each other’s pen pal.”

Steve shook his head.  “I think I owe Penelope $20.”

“You bet that we knew each other?” Spencer asked, shocked that Garcia had put it together before he had.

“No.  She bet you two would hit it off.  Though now I’m wondering if she had some insider information.”  Steve trailed off as he thought about it.  “Anyway.  I better get back to her.  You two still on for dinner?”

Darcy looked at Spencer.  He gave a small nod so she said, “Sure.  We’ll be there in a moment.”

“I’m giving you five,” Steve said.  “If I have to come back and find you, I promise you will pay.”

“You’d never!” Darcy gasped.

“Try me,” Steve said before making an “I’ve got my eyes on you” motion and running away.

“What would he do?” Spencer asked Darcy as they started to walk again.

“Ugh.  You don’t want to know.  Let’s just say I will have probably have to order all new bras.”

“Then we better get going,” he said, taking her hand and picking up the pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might get a sequel.


	5. Destined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so I was watching CM and when Spence got shot and they were in the room JJ mentioned that he wanted kids and we all know he's great and adorable with kids. I kind of wanted single-mom Darcy, but then I realized that babysitter Darcy losing Jane's and Thor's kid - a ROYAL BABY - but Spence finds them and keeps them chatty BC Jane's brain in small child YES plz and then meet cute between losers BC they're dorks-nessafly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT a sequel to "Dearest." (Though that will be happening eventually.)

Darcy was freaking out.  Jane and Thor had asked her to watch their adorable four-year-old for the day, and she was screwing it up royally.  She had decided to take Eydis to the Natural History museum.  There was supposed to be a traveling exhibit about color (what it was, how we process it) that she was positive her small charge would love.  Eydis might have been Thor’s beloved daughter, but she had her mom’s brain rattling around her head.  And it had been going well, magnificent in fact, until she had stopped to read a display and realized that Ey’s tiny hand was no longer in hers.

Darcy tried not to panic.  Ey was a precocious little kid.  She had probably just wandered over to a nearby display that had caught her eye.  She took a deep breath and scanned the room.  The panic she was trying to hold back started to bubble up. 

She was getting ready to yell Eydis’s name when she stopped herself.  Eydis was literal royalty.  If people know that she was wandering around alone, there was a decent chance it would draw negative attention to the little girl.  It was highly unlikely that the girl had been kidnapped (she did tend to wander whenever she was somewhere she found fascinating), so Darcy just needed to take a deep breath and start to think like the tiny genius.

The first thing she did was squat down to Eydis’s level.  What would catch the girl’s eye from this vantage point?  She mostly saw legs, but she stayed crouched.  Something grabbed the girl’s attention, and if she just focused, she would figure it out.

***

“Are you lost?” Spencer asked, kneeling down to the level of the little girl.

“No.  I’m learning about ancient dyeing techniques and the materials used to create colors.  Did you know that they used to milk sea snails to make purple dye?”

“In fact I did,” he said with a smile, “but only because I’ve already visited this exhibit.”

“What do you think is the most interesting type of dye?” the child asked, eyes studying him.

“I think the coal tar is the most interesting because it was an accident.  The scientist that discovered it wasn’t looking for dyes at all.”

“What was he looking for?”

“A cure for malaria, a terrible disease.”

The little girl nodded her head as she put this new information into her mind.  “My mom says that there are no accidents in science, just unexpected outcomes.”

“Is your mom a scientist?”

“A very important one,” the girl said with a nod.  “She’s a nobel.”

“She’s won a Nobel?” Spencer asked, looking around.  “Is she here right now?”

“No, I’m with Aunt Darcy today.”

“And where is your Aunt Darcy?”

“She was looking at the stuff on color charts.  It was boring.”

“But dyeing technique isn’t?”

“You have to dye before you need a color chart, and dyeing things is hands on.  Momma says I like my science messy.”

Spencer looked at the colorful streaks in the girl’s hair.  “Did you dye your hair yourself?”

“It’s not dye, it’s chalk.  Aunt Darcy helped me.  She’s really pretty.  Do you like pretty girls?”

Spencer chuckled to himself at the conversational jump.  “I’m more interested in their personality.”

“Like if she’s nice?”

“Among other things.”

“My Aunt Darcy is very nice.  She’s smart too.  Momma says she’s people smart, but I think she’s all things smart.  She knows all the cool facts about Friendship is Magic.”

“She sounds great.  We should probably go find her so you can introduce us,” Spencer said, holding his hand out to the little girl.  She placed her small hand in his and he stood up.

“She’s this way.”

“If you’re going to introduce us, you need to know my name.  It’s Spencer.”

“I already knew that.”

“Oh?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Your name’s on you badge on your sweater,” she said pointing at it.

“So it is,” he said, amazed at her awareness.  “What’s your name?”

“I’m Eydis.”

“Eydis is an Icelandic name meaning ‘good fortune.’”

“Daddy says I bring good fortune to all nine realms.”  She pulled him a little further before saying, “There’s Aunt Darcy!”

Spencer followed the hand she was pointing with.  Well, Eydis hadn’t been joking when she said her aunt was very pretty.

***

Darcy was scanning the room one last time before totally losing it when she saw Eydis holding the hand of the cutest guy she had ever seen.  She was definitely concerned that Ey was with a stranger, but then she pointed at Darcy and started dragging the man with her.

“Eydis Foster!  Where have you been?” Darcy scolded, but there was no heat to her words.  She was too relieved to see the girl.

“I was just looking at the cool dyes Aunt Darcy.  And then I met Mr. Spencer and he told me some cool stuff about coal tar.”

Darcy looked at the man who gave a small wave with his free hand.  “I promise I wasn’t trying to kidnap her,” he said immediately.

“Don’t be silly,” Eydis said, “You’re with the FBI.  You wouldn’t kidnap me.  That’s Shield.”

Spencer, to his credit, simply raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut.  “Ey,” Darcy said crouching down, “I’m glad you’re safe, but you need to be more careful.”  She opened her arms and the little girl ran into them, but pulled Spencer with.  Darcy gave the girl an awkward one armed hug and kissed her temple.

***

Spencer felt his stomach flip as he watched Darcy interact with the young girl.  Her gentle way with the child only raised his opinion of her.  He had just met her a minute ago, but she already seemed like someone he would like to know more.

“Okay dear, let’s say thank you and goodbye to Spencer.”

The girl’s grip on his hand tightened as she said, “No.  You don’t know him yet.  You have to get to know him before he can leave.”

Darcy’s cheeks grew very pink as she looked up at him and mouthed, “Sorry.”  To Eydis she said, “Honey, we can’t keep him against his will.”

“He wants to stay,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Ey…”

“No Aunt Darcy.  You can’t fight it.  The three old ladies told me this had to happen.”

Spencer watched, curious as Darcy went very still.  “Three old ladies?”

“The ones Daddy says mean I am destined for greatness.  They talked to me.”

“Are you sure it was them dearest?” She asked, her voice more panicked than he had heard it when they first joined her.

“Promise,” Eydis said.  “So invite him already.”

Darcy stood up in front of Spencer.  “How do you feel about coffee?”

“In general?  Positive.”

“With us?”

Spencer offered his arm to Darcy, “I know a great place just down the road.”  They walked quietly for a bit before Spencer dipped his head down to Darcy’s.  “Who are the three old ladies?”

His voice soft in her ear made her stomach flip.  His head stayed close to hers, so she tilted just a little and asked, “What do you know about Norse mythology?”

“Are you suggesting she meant the Norns?”  Darcy simply looked at him.  “Then I guess this is meant to be,” he finished with a smile.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who was just told that mythical characters are real and setting you up.”

“I’d rather look at it as a date with destiny.”

“The ladies said you two were destined, they didn’t say you’d sound all mushy gross like Momma and Daddy,” Eydis complained.  “Can you cut it out until you take me home?”

“You ready to go home now dearest?” she asked the little girl.

“Yes,” Spencer answered.


	6. The Blob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: soulmate au (it's a weakness) Darcy always wondered how the words left on her ribs would come about but she never thought she'd end up meeting her soulmate during an attack from the blob and mini blob babies, it shouldn't have surprised her being that this was her actual life -weaverofhopes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this didn't go up last night. The husband and I ended up playing games and watching movies and I didn't get to finish it.

Growing up, Darcy used to stand in front of her bedroom mirror in her underwear and stare at her soulmark.  It was so curious.  She would trace the words with her fingers and wonder just what would cause someone to say those words.  She wondered if they could feel it when she touched the words.  Sometimes she was certain that the odd warmth she felt was them touching theirs.  It almost didn’t matter if it was true, she was going to believe it anyway.  Sometimes it was comforting to think that they were thinking of her just like she was thinking of them.

Some of her friends had marks that made it clear who would speak first, but hers wasn’t like that.  It wasn’t a question or a greeting. She felt bad for the handful of friends she had with something like “hello” on their skin.  How many times a day did a person hear that?  How many soulmates had been initially missed because of it?  It almost seemed cruel to have such a mark.  At least hers wasn’t generic. There would be no mistaking them when she met them.  She had the fear that she would use a normal greeting for her first words, so she had picked up odd little phrases to use when meeting new people.  She didn’t want her soulmate constantly being disappointed while trying to find her.

While Darcy continued to be fascinated by her words, her life gradually became filled with lots of things she could have never anticipated.  Working with Jane had opened up a whole crazy world, and she loved it.  Sometimes, when she was all alone, she would rub her words and talk about her crazy day.  When the Destroyer arrived, she was certain the sudden calm that came over her had to have somehow come from her soulmate.  She honestly didn’t care that there wasn’t really any science to back that up, she simply believed.  She had mentioned this to Jane once and she had just shrugged.  “If my mark can be in some ancient language, I have no problem believing that it’s possible to feel emotions.  People probably don’t realize what it is so it’s hard to study.”  Darcy had taken that as scientific permission to keep on believing.

On more than one occasion she had felt sharp pains at her words, and she was certain something had happened to her soulmate.  She would sit and concentrate on sending strength and calmness to them.  She wasn’t sure if it did anything, but it made her feel better to know she had tried to help.  She always wrote down the days when she felt those pains, determined to ask her soulmate if anything had happened.  It wasn’t terribly scientific, but it was something.

***

Spencer had always found his words to be an interesting puzzle.  He had an entire notebook dedicated to the theories he had about how their meeting would come about.  They were such interesting first words.  It was like they were in a middle of a conversation instead of the start.  He had even anagrammed his soulmark more than once.  He wasn’t sure why he did it, but it made him feel closer to them.  He had started studying language and handwriting in an effort to learn something, anything, more about his soulmate.  He had learned it was probably a girl based on the style of handwriting, and that she was probably left handed by the slope of it.  Her syntax made her most likely from the Midwest, and that made him wonder just how they would cross paths.  (He no longer wondered when he went away to college and then the FBI and realized how easily people could move vast distances.  Though it was just as likely he would meet her in her Midwest town while he was on a case.)

On one case he was shot.  His world went white with pain momentarily and then he started to feel weak and cold.  As he sat there waiting for help to arrive, he felt a warmth that seemed to be radiating from his words, and he felt stronger than he had before.  He chalked it up to the stress of the situation and his mind trying to protect him.  But then it happened again when he had fallen and messed up his knee.  He made a note in his soulmate book to talk to her about this once he met her.  He had never heard of such things happening, but it had happened more than once, so better to document it and investigate later.

***

The day dawned bright and clear.  At first, Darcy thought nothing of it. Just another beautiful Spring day after a string of other perfectly lovely days.  She and Jane had settled into Avengers Tower a few months earlier, and Darcy was loving getting to know the city.  She had taken to going for a walk to grab her and Jane lunch in order to wander a bit and get to know her new home.  Plus, she had found some absolute gems of restaurants that she never would have otherwise known about.  She was walking back from a deli when she was suddenly in a shadow.  She looked up to see if a storm was brewing and was shocked to see a giant orange blob rolling down the street blocking out the sun.  Getting caught in its gelatinous path looked like it was possibly deadly, so she took off down the nearest side street, hopeful that the blob would continue on its path rather than chase her. 

She ran for two blocks before she stopped.  When she turned down another street, she was suddenly confronted by miniature versions of the same blob she had just run away from.  There was a small group of people also on the street.  They were all wearing vests that proclaimed they were the FBI, though bullet proof vests were probably not blob proof. 

She looked at the one nearest to her who had turned to look at her when she had come up on the group.  “Today’s Tuesday, isn’t it?  I knew that any day that started out as perfectly normal as the last three would wind up a mess, but I was expecting an explosion.”

The man blinked at her once, then again before opening and shutting his mouth a few times.  Finally he squeaked out, “An explosion seems preferable actually.  At least I know how those can be expected to behave.”

It was Darcy’s turn to do an impression of a goldfish.

“Miss, you need to back away,” another member of the group called to her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she protested, “But I think I might be able to get use some useful reinforcements.”  She pulled her phone out of her bag and called the Tower.  “J?  I’m kinda stuck and there are some baby blobs in front of me and my soulmate, so if you could send someone our way, that would be super.”  While she had been making her call, her soulmate had stepped in between her and the small advancing blob army.

“Who’d you call?” he asked.

“I work at the tower,” she said, implicitly trusting him, but not so sure about the rest of them.

“As in you just called in reinforcements of the enhanced variety?”

Darcy didn’t answer as Iron Man’s arrival answered for her.  “Nice group of friends you have D,” he called.  “Now get them out of here.”

“Let’s go!” she said, grabbing her soulmate’s hand.  “Tony will take care of this.  I doubt anything we have would be useful anyway.”

They ran down the street and hid in the lobby of an apartment building.  She huddled close to her soulmate who also seemed uninterested in being very far from her.  “I’d be super surprised if this was a false positive, but I have to ask, did I say your words?”

He nodded and then unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, pulling the collar down so she could see her words.  She reached out to touch, but stopped short, hand hovering in air.

“It’s okay,” he said so softly it was almost a breath.  She ran her fingers over the words with a feather light touch, but she would swear the words pulsed with warmth as she stroked them.  “Can I see mine?” He asked.

Darcy tugged at the hem of her shirt, lifting it to the bottom of her bra and twisting a bit so he could see the words that started on the outside of her rib cage and swirled inward.  His fingers grazed the words and she suddenly felt extremely calm.

“Not to intrude on a personal moment,” Tony’s voice called.  “Actually, yes, I always mean what I do. D, you need to introduce me because Jarvis said I needed to save you and _your soulmate_.”

Darcy dropped her shirt and looked at the man.  “I’m Darcy, by the way,” she said as she stood up.

“Spencer,” he said.  “And I have a notebook of things I want to ask you about.”

“I do too!” Darcy said, surprised.

“And I’m still waiting,” Tony said petulantly.

Darcy gave Spencer a small smile before turning to face her crazy boss.  “Tony, this is my soulmate Spencer.”


	7. Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like a 'Darcy wields Mjolnir' fic, with a side of 'takes an Avenger/Avenger-adjacent as her bride.' Maybe some rule about being a princess of Asgard, and being worthy means she must have a consort? -phoenix-173

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT KNOW NORSE MYTHOLOGY. I JUST LOOKED UP WORDS. PLEASE DON'T YELL AT ME.

The day had been far from ordinary. Days were rarely what one would consider normal when Spencer was visiting his father, but this was an especially outlandish day.  Of course he knew and understood who his father was, but he had somehow never seen him in action as Iron Man. The reality was surprisingly shocking to him.

It had started in the lab.  They had been looking at the readings from a recent experiment from Dr. Foster, trying to figure out how to improve the machine she had made to take more sensitive readings.  Dr. Banner had also been there in addition to Dr. Foster’s assistant Darcy.  Of course he had met Darcy before on a previous visit.  He had thought she was absolutely charming.  She spoke her mind, but not in a harsh way.  She was generous and kind, and gorgeous to boot. When he had visited several months ago, she had insisted on dragging him out to karaoke night and they had become fast friends before the night was out.  She was constantly texting him funny things that happened in the tower and ridiculous pictures of his father passed on strange surfaces after a “science bender” as she called them.  Where his entire team had failed to bring him into the technological world, she had been able to make him into a proficient in texting in just two short months.

He wasn’t stupid.  He knew that he was falling in love with her

And today had been just another visit in the lab.  They were going to make the plans to build a new machine for Dr. Foster, and then he was going to ask Darcy to dinner.  And she was going to say yes.  He hoped. 

But that wasn’t what happened.  Instead, Thor had come down to talk to the ladies when suddenly an explosion blew in the windows.  Thor had been the closest and had been knocked out.  Tony was on the ground, but his suit was rapidly coming together around him.  Dr. Banner had transformed into the Hulk and was roaring out the gaping hole.  Dr. Foster was scraped up, but well enough while she hid under a desk with Darcy.

And Darcy, as soon as she had realized that Jane was safe had run out into the chaos, Spencer hot on her heels.  Men in black were repelling into the open wall.  The Hulk was batting them away, but some were still getting in.  Tony was blasting at them.  And Darcy?  Darcy had picked up Mjolnir and was swinging it around, taking out men as they came close enough.

“Go take care of Jane,” she hollered at Spencer.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Absolutely.  This is actually kind of fun!”

Spencer ran back toward the desk and checked on Jane.  He ripped his sweater into strips and bound a few cuts on her arms from the glass.  She would probably need stitches, but was otherwise okay.  Less than a minute later, the rest of the Avengers had joined the fight, and it was all over almost as quickly as it had started.

“Lady Darcy!” Thor bellowed in that voice he considered appropriate for the indoors, “Mjolnir has found you worthy.  Before you were my sister in arms, and now you are my sister in truth.”

“Wait, what?” Darcy asked, flabbergasted.

“Your ability to wield the hammer comes with certain rights and responsibilities,” Thor explained.

“Like what?”

“You are now considered a right and true Princess of Asgard.  It has been many years since a woman had held the power of Mjolnir, but I still remember the laws.”

“Laws?” Spencer asked, worried for whatever kind of alien rule Darcy was about to be subjected to.”

“When Mjolnir finds a woman worthy, she is to take on a consort to escort her to all her required duties.”

“Wait,” Jane cut in, “are you saying Darcy has to get married?”

“Marriage is not required, though that is the usual state, yes.”

“Oh shit,” Darcy said, the hammer slipping from her hand.

“How long, Thor?  How long does she have to decide?”

“As soon as possible, though it must be complete by the time the sun slips beyond the horizon line.”

Darcy looked up, eyes wide with worry.  Spencer went to her and crushed her against him in a fierce hug.  “It’ll be okay Darcy.  You heard him, you don’t have to get married.  It’s just someone to sit by you while you perform whatever duties it is Thor hasn’t described yet.  We’re all here for you.  It’s going to be okay.”  He couldn’t help the flow of words that bubbled out of his mouth.

“Spencer!” Darcy suddenly yelled.  “I choose Spencer!”

He pulled back and looked at her, his own eyes now wide with shock.  “Are you sure?” he asked.  “I mean, anyone here would say yes to you.”

“But you’re the only one I would want to say yes,” she whispered.  “Please say yes.”

“Yes,” he whispered, eyes locked on hers.

Suddenly there was a blinding gold light that engulfed them.  It extinguished gradually, and they noticed a magical string linking their hands.

“This is wonderous news!” Thor bellowed.

“What is going on?” Jane demanded, almost hysterical, voicing what all the assembled others were thinking.  Now that he thought about it, Spencer was surprised his father hadn’t already made an ass of himself with a well-meaning but inappropriate comment.

“This is old magic, the like of which I had not expected to ever see,” Thor said solemnly.  “Darcy and her chosen are destined for greatness. The vӧlva have prophesied and blessed this union.”

Tony slapped Spencer on the back.  “That’s my son!”

“Thanks, dad,” Spencer said awkwardly as he stared at Darcy.

“Who’s hungry?  Let’s order takeout,” Tony added.  “You two pick whatever since you’re basically a royal couple or something now.”

“Yes, umm, great.  Do you mind if Spencer and I speak for a moment?” Darcy asked.  “In private?”

“Of course, Princess Darcy,” Thor said bowing to her and sweeping out of their way.

Darcy tugged Spencer out into the hallway, passed the assembled Avengers, and over to Jane’s lab.

“Privacy protocols please, Jarvis.”

“Privacy protocols enacted.”

Darcy sat heavily on the couch in the lab.  “I’m so sorry Spencer.  I know you didn’t sign up to be some sort of royal alien space consort that is destined for something or other.  It’s just, I was so freaked out and then you were there being so nice, and I like you, like, really like you, and I thought that it would be nice to always have you with me whenever I had to do weird Asgard shit, and I didn’t think.  I should have thought about what that might mean for you.”

“Darcy, you didn’t force me to do anything.  You asked.  I said yes.  I want to be there with you while you do 'weird Asgard shit.'  Imagine all the things I could learn while being with you.  Imagine all the time I get to spend with you.”

“You want to spend time with me?”

“As much as I can.”

Darcy smiled her first real smile since everything had gone crazy.  “Me too,” she said, leaning forward toward him.  “I’m going to kiss you now unless you stop me.”

Spencer did not stop her.


	8. Marry Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May I prompt elopement for the lovely duo? -greennonmonster

It was raining.  This was not exactly the weather Spencer had been hoping for today, but he knew how much Darcy loved a good story, and he imagined she would just think the rain made it better.  He quickened his pace.  He had promised he would be there in twenty minutes after he called, and he was skirting that time limit.  Finding an umbrella before leaving had taken more time than he had expected, and he didn’t want to be late, not today of all days. When he finally reached her building, he practically ran up the stoop stairs, pressing the buzzer.  He heard her before he saw her run down the interior stairs, flinging open the door and crashing into his arms, nearly knocking both of them down the stoop.

“Spencer!” She laughed as she hugged him.  “You’re here!  You’re finally here!”

“I am,” he laughed back, her enthusiasm catching. “Sorry I’m a little late.  You have no idea how hard it was to find an umbrella I could borrow from the hotel.”

“You could have stayed with me.”

“You know I couldn’t.  I’m on a case.  I have to stay with the team.”

“I know.  I just miss you and wish you weren’t even just a few blocks away, even if that’s better than an entire train ride away.”

“You could come stay at the hotel with me while we’re here.”

“And make your team’s tongues wag?  Are you sure you want that?”

He smiled but didn’t respond.  Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him and under the safety of the umbrella.  “Shall we?”

“Lead the way!”

She was wearing colorful rain boots with her leggings and an oversized maroon sweater.  It had a boat neck that showed of her collarbone, one of his favorite places to kiss her when she was in a giggly mood.  It always made her laugh more and he couldn’t get enough of that sound.  He caught himself staring, and quickly focused on their destination. He led them down the street, trying not to seem in too much of a hurry to get them to the location he had in mind.

“The train station?” she asked when they arrived, a curious curve to her brow.  “Why are we here?”

He handed her the umbrella.  The rain was softer now, but it was still coming down in streams.  “We’ve spent a lot of time here, so it felt like the right place to do it.”

“Do what?”

Spencer got down on one knee and she immediately let out a surprised squeal. “Darcy Lewis, you’ve made my life better in every way imaginable.  Everything is brighter when you’re around. You never fail to make me smile and laugh, even when work makes me think there’s nothing good left in the world.  You let me be me, and even seem to like me just the way I am.  And I love you just the way you are.  I love that you consider running a form of cruel and unusual punishment.  I love that you make the sarcastic joke, but it’s never at someone else’s expense. I love the way you hate wearing pants in your own house and the smile you get that’s just for me. I love the way your hair is a messy halo in the morning, and how you never fail to wish me a good night, no matter how far apart we are. Mostly, I love you for every imagined flaw you have, and every real positive attribute you have trouble believing describes you. We live crazy lives, but I don’t want them to be our separate crazy lives.  I want it to be our crazy life together.”  He pulled a ring from his pocket. Holding it out to her.  “Darling Darcy, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” she cried, throwing he arms around him, the umbrella slipping down behind him.  Neither of them paid any attention to the rain slowly soaking them as she kissed him sweetly but passionately, only pulling away when they realized they had drawn a tiny crowd that was clapping and cheering.  They pulled apart, both blushing, and thanked the people around them.  A man came up to them.

“I, uh, video tapped it once I realized it was happening.  I thought you might want that for later.”  He handed them a business card.  “Email me and I’ll send it to you.  Congratulations.”

Another man with a large, professional camera came up just after the first.  “Hi, my name is Aleks.  I was doing a photo shoot over there and just had to take your picture.  I’d love to give you a copy and use your picture on my site.”  He also handed them a card.  “Let me know.  I have to get back to work.”  They watched him go back to the corner of the building where they saw a team set up for some sort of modeling shoot.  The looked at each other and laughed.

“Oh my Thor,” Darcy sighed.  “This will make an excellent story.”  Spencer smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose.  Darcy looked down at the ring on her finger.  “How did you get the right size?”

“I took one of the rings from your jewelry box, sized it, and put it back.”

“You little sneak!” She smacked his arm.  “Of course you did.”

“Do you like it?” he asked.  He had been worried about getting it just right.  “I found it in a little vintage shop in DC.  It’s from the 20s.”

“It’s perfect,” she said, admiring the gorgeous opal.

“It has a matching band,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket to show her.

“Spencer!  You did a really good job.  I love it.”  She kissed him again.  “You know, I love you too, right? I’m going to make my vows into the most amazing declaration of love I can to be sure you know.”  She fiddled with his tie a bit, a sure sign she had something on her mind.  “Have you thought about it, the actual ceremony, I mean.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.  “I, um, was hoping it didn’t need to be big,” he said cautiously, trying to read her face for her thoughts on the matter.

“I was thinking that the courthouse tomorrow sounded nice,” she said just as quietly.  “Or a trip to Vegas maybe, once your case is done?”

“Would you mind waiting for my case and Vegas?  I’d really like my mom to be able to come.”

“I’d like that,” she said.  “We need a witness anyway.”  She took his hand and they started to walk again, this time Darcy leading.  “Are we, uh, going to tell people?”

“Do you want to?” he countered.  He had his own thoughts, but he’d defer to her wishes here. 

“No?  I mean, I think I just want it to be our secret for now.  When I get home, though, I’m going to start looking for jobs in DC.  It won’t be a secret once I find one.”

“Really?” He asked.  He hadn’t planned on asking her to move.  He thought they would talk about it.  He didn’t necessarily want to move, but he didn’t want to force her to either.

“Of course,” she said easily.  “I want to live with my husband.  Besides, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a job. I have a personal references from Jane Foster and Thor.”

They wandered the city well into the night, stopping into tiny restaurants to grab a bite to eat and dark, cozy corners to kiss each other senseless; wandering aimlessly and just enjoying the rainy night together.  Sometime past midnight, Spencer walked Darcy to her doorstep and kissed her goodnight before practically floating back to his hotel.

The next day the team all seemed to catch that something was different about him, but no one guessed right.  When Morgan had suggested he must have met a girl, Spencer had actually laughed in his face.  If he only knew.

A day and a half later, the case was done.  Spencer immediately requested vacation time to visit his mom.  He called Darcy, booked flights, and they were in Vegas less than 48 hours after that.  Spencer had called ahead for permission to take his mom out for a short trip for the wedding, and it had been quickly granted.  They had landed in Vegas in the evening, checking into a honeymoon suite at a hotel. The next morning, he took Darcy out to the clinic and officially introduced her to his mom.  Darcy had spoken with his mom before, but they had never met. The women got on swimmingly (“because we both love you,” his mom had said), and soon they were all on their way to the small chapel they had selected.

Darcy pulled his mom into a changing room, and half an hour later they came out.  Unbeknownst to him, Darcy had bought his mom a new dress along with her own.  His mom was positively beaming in the smart sheath dress with tuxedo style jacket.  Darcy herself had on a tea style dress with a full black skirt and a gold top.  Her hair was pulled back and she wore delicate gold and opal combs in her hair. Spencer’s breath caught as she walked down the aisle toward him. 

They had both written their own vows (well, declarations of love) for the occasion, not interested in sticking too closely to a traditional ceremony. (“And because I need to get you back for your proposal.”  “Get me back?” he had asked, amused. “Well, make you understand just how much I love you, anyway.”)

“Spencer, my splendid sun,” Darcy started, “sometimes I wake up in the morning, and for the briefest moment, I forget you exist. And I get to remember anew the awe and beauty that is living a life in the glow of your love.  You always think the best of me, so I strive to be the person you know I can be. You challenge me, lord do you challenge me.  I love that we never fight; we debate and we argue, but we do so with mutual respect and adoration.  You never fail to make me believe in the impossible.  Being loved by you is the most glorious burden.  I promise to strive every day to be the woman you love and are proud of. I promise to always adore the man you are, flaws and all.  I promise to support and cherish you and us.  From this day forward, to be “we” instead of you and me.”

Spencer wiped away a stray tear before pulling out his own handwritten statement.  “Dearest of all, my Darcy.  I will always be amazed that you saw me and said yes.  That you saw the real me, not the me that you wanted me to be, and said yes.  That you saw my quirks and my flaws and said yes.  That you saw my fear and my doubt and said yes.  That every day you look at me and choose to say yes. And now it is my turn to say yes.  Yes, I will love you just as you are.  Yes I will support you through all we encounter.  Yes I will respect you always.  Yes, yes, yes.  A million times yes to all you could ever ask of me, and all the things you would not.  The answer will always be yes.”

In the back of the chapel there was sudden clapping and cheering, startling both of them from staring at each other.  In the back of the room was all of his team along with Jane and Thor.

“How…?”

"Your proposal video went viral on YouTube,” Garcia said. “As soon as you said you needed to visit your mom I went into research mode.  We wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

“Though don’t think we won’t be talking about how we didn’t even know you were seeing someone pretty boy,” Morgan added.

“You two should finish up,” Hotchner said with a smile.  “I don’t believe you’re man and wife just yet.”

Spencer turned back to Darcy, her face just as red, but also as happy as his.  Darcy held up a finger to the officiant before turning back to the group.  “How long have you been there?”

“Before the declarations of love,” Jane said, knowing exactly what her friend was after.  Darcy nodded once and then turned back to the officiant.

“Okay, let’s finish this,” she said, squaring her shoulders like she was heading into battle.  Spencer laughed a bit at her, and she threw him a smile, very clear on why he was laughing.

The ceremony was nearly complete anyway.  Rings were exchanged and before he knew it, they were kissing to the catcalls of the assembled crowd.

“I’ve booked us a nice restaurant if you don’t have other plans,” Rossi said cheerfully.

“You didn’t have to,” Spencer started to day.

Rossi waved him off.  “I know a guy that owes me a favor.”

Spencer looked to Darcy and she gave a half shrug and a smile.  “As long as my wife is there, I think anywhere is just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! The team just wouldn't let them get away with it!
> 
> Also, I had to add in the photographer because I actually have a friend named Aleks that is a photographer in NYC. He mainly does head shots for musicians, and he's very talented. He'll never read this, but I couldn't help myself. It's absolutely something he would do.
> 
> If you want to see what I saw when I was writing this one:  
> Rings: http://cdn.ringscollection.com/thumbnails/thumb-34001.jpg  
> Dress: https://images-eu.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/81ZhgBzajUL._UL1500_.jpg


	9. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me to tumblr: This morning I found I had woken up in the night and written this on a scrap of paper:  
> “Are you in a legal contract of the romantic variety?”  
> “Yes, I am married.”  
> I have ZERO IDEA why I wrote this. I have no stories that this makes sense for. Someone prompt me the story this belongs in because now I think I need to write the thing.
> 
> The lovely greennonmonster: Darcy/Spencer amnesia short? Temporary amnesia, perhaps painkiller induced after an accident ala hollywood style? Darcy’s been in an accident, hurt but not seriously (jane, erik, the avengers and the team are bribing their way into Darcy’s room) Spencer’s there of course and it takes a little while for Darcy to realize that the hot, smart and nice unfortunately married man is her husband? idk i think i need some romcoms tonight :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because not everyone follows me on Tumblr.

Darcy’s head was fuzzy. She had been hungover and woken up with cotton mouth, but this was more like cotton mind.  She moved to sit up, but gentle hands pressed her back down.

“Let me move the bed for you,” a soft man’s voice said.  She turned to take a look at him while he played with the bed controls.  His hair was in disarray, his clothes a little wrinkled, but she couldn’t help but feel a fondness for the man wearing a cute button down and cardigan at her bedside.  She was, apparently, in a hospital, but she had no idea why.

“Are you my doctor?” she asked the man.  It would be weird for a doctor to be sitting and waiting for her to wake up, but also absolutely something Stark might make a doctor do through the power of money.

“Kind of?” the man said with a little wry smile that drained off his face to be replaced by a little bit of a crinkle between his eyebrows.  “You don’t know who I am?”

She shook her head “no,” and felt a dull thudding at the action.  “What happened to me?”

“You were in an accident,” he said slowly.  “I should call for the doctor, and then I can explain.”

He pushed the call button on her bed and then went to the door.  He opened it a crack, and Darcy could hear him talking to someone on the other side.

“Fine.  Yes, you can come in if you can get the doctor here in the next 5 minutes,” he whispered just loudly enough before shutting the door and sitting back down.  “What do you remember?  Maybe I can fill in the, err, missing parts.”

She sat for a moment. What _did_ she remember?  “I remember heading out for coffee,” she finally said.  “I had an order list and was going to that cute place down the block.”

“Do you remember who you were buying coffee for?”

“Of course,” she said instantly, but then realized she couldn’t.

“It’s okay,” he said smoothing the sheets in front of him.  “You did go to get coffee, and there was an attack by what I think you would call the ‘villain of the week’.  The Avengers dealt with it, but the coffee shop, and you, were caught in the crossfire.  The building partially collapsed and you were trapped.  You hit your head pretty hard and needed some stitches on your legs. Your ribs are bruised but not broken.” He paused.  “Do you know what today is?”

“Tuesday.”

He shook his head. “It’s Thursday.  You’ve been out for a while.  We were worried you weren’t going to wake up.”  His voice trembled just a bit at the end, and she wondered why he was here.  Did he feel responsible?  Had he been there when she was hurt?  Had they been flirting at the coffee shop and this was some kind of _While You Were Sleeping_ shit?

“Who are you?” she asked as the door opened.

“Darcy, glad to see you awake and coherent,” Dr. Cox said.  “I’d love to run some tests and see if I can get you out of my hair, so let’s get to it.”

“She doesn’t remember who I am,” the man said before he stepped into the hall to give her privacy.

Dr. Cox turned his eyes back onto Darcy.  “You don’t know who that man is?”

“No.  Should I?”

“How about answering me this:  do you want to know him?”

“He’s adorable.”

“That sounds like a yes. Here’s the thing, sweetheart, you can’t go quite yet now that I know there’s some amnesia going on because, yes, you should know who he is, so why don’t you try to hit it?”

She wanted to throw a pillow at him, but instead narrowed her eyes.  “Are you saying I should hit on him for your own amusement?”

“God no.  I don’t need any more awkward sexual tension in my life. I just think it might be good for your memory.” As he started looking over her vitals and doing some physical exams, he kept up the chatter.  “So how far back can you remember?  Because maybe this is my chance to fix all the things in your life.”

“I just have…holes?” she said, not sure how to explain it.  “Like, I know that I live in New York.  I know that I was getting coffee, but I’m not sure who that man was, or, oh my God, I don’t know what my job is.  Do I still work for Jane?”

He clucked and shook his head no.  “I’m going to need to consult with the others, but I think you’re missing a lot more than you realize.  You haven’t lived in New York or worked with Jane in 3 years.”

Darcy stared at him. “But….”

“I don’t know.  But I’m going to figure it out.”  And with that he left the room.

Darcy slumped back against the pillows.  Three years. That was practically a lifetime. Apparently she didn’t live in New York, or work with Jane, and there was something with the man whose name she didn’t even know. The door popped back open and Jane’s head poked in.

“D?”

“Hey Jane,” she said with a small smile.

“Oh thank god you know who I am,” Jane sighed as she came in.  “Spencer wasn’t sure if you would.”

“His name is Spencer?”

Jane gave a tight smile. “Yeah.  It is.”  She took the empty seat next to the bed.  “I made him go shower and change.  Tony was going to come say hi, but instead he’s talking to Dr. Cox.  There was a chemical aspect to the attack, so they’re trying to figure out if it affected… things.  But how are you?”

“Sore, apparently missing three years, but otherwise okay.”  She put away the mystery man’s name and the fact that Jane knew him well enough to boss him around for later.  She didn’t know where to even start.  “How about you?  You look pretty tired there Janey.”

“I’ve had better days,” Jane allowed.  “I’ve been remotely monitoring my data while sitting here worrying about you.”

“I’m sorry I’ve messed up your work.”

“You haven’t,” Jane rushed to soothe.  “I would just be monitoring anyway.  I have a team that’s in the field doing the readings.  Besides, you will always be more important than work.  You’re a _person. My_ person.  Science will always be there for me, but I just found out you might not be. I’m allowed to worry and use numbers as a distraction.”

“Dr. Cox said I don’t work for you anymore…”

“He’s right.  You moved to DC for an incredible opportunity that Pepper offered you.”

“So I’m in DC?”

Jane’s face fell a little. “Yeah, you live there.  But right now we’re in New York in the medical wing of the Tower.”

Darcy tried to decide if she wanted to ask the next question.  “And Spencer? Who….who is he?  To me?”

Jane pursed her lips. “That’s not for me to say,” she finally got out. “I can’t imagine…if the roles were reversed, it’s just not how I would want to figure it out? I can’t decide if it would be better to remember or if it would be better for him to tell me?  I don’t know Darce, but as your best friend, it’s just better if it’s not me.”

“But, there’s, like, a thing between us, right?  I mean, why else would he be camped out at my bedside?”

“Do you want there to be a thing?”

“You sound an awful lot like Dr. Cox.”

“And that wasn’t an answer.”

“Yes?  I mean, I don’t really know him.  Or, rather, I guess I don’t remember that I know him?  But, yeah, he’s super cute.”

Jane smiled and the door opened again.  It was Tony followed by Dr. Cox.

“Welcome back to the world of the awake, Lewis,” Stark breezed, “we’re going to take you for a little brain scan to see if there’s something in there that will help shed some light on this.”

“He really just wants nudie pics of your brain,” Dr. Cox said with a huge smile.

Darcy rolled her eyes, which hurt a tiny bit.

“C’mon Lewis,” Stark said patting the seat of the wheelchair he had pulled out of the corner.  “Let’s go for a ride.”

Jane helped her move from the bed to the chair, which wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be, though her legs were a bit shaky from lack of use the past several days.  “Wait,” she said as they started to wheel her out. “What about Spencer?”

“I’ll tell him where you are,” Jane said returning to the chair she had been sitting in.  “Go have your close-up.”

“Did you remember the doc?” Stark asked.  Darcy studied him for a moment.  He was curious; not joking.

“Err, no,” she said. “Doc?”

Tony shot a look at Jane who just shrugged.  “He’s got degrees,” was all Tony said as he started pushing again.

The scans were long and boring.  When they were finally satisfied, Darcy was exhausted and ready to sleep some more. Dr. Cox assured her this was normal since her body was still healing.  It was the least sarcastic she could remember him being.  Tony let Dr. Cox take her back to the room so he could start analyzing everything.  While it should have taken less than five minutes to get from one room to the other, Darcy nodded off before they made it back to her room.  She woke up when the wheelchair stopped, though her eyes were still heavy.  However, she was still able to see that the chair next to the bed was once again occupied by the mystery man.  As soon as she was settled back in the bed, Dr. Cox beat it out of the room with assurances he would be back once he knew something.

“You came back,” she said to him sleepily.

“Of course I did.”

“That was nice.”  He just smiled.  “Are you going to be here when I wake up?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Yeah, I think seeing you before I fall asleep will give me good dreams.”

“Then sweet dreams, Darcy.”

“Thanks Spencer,” she said, just catching his look of surprise before she drifted off.

Sometime later she awoke to a room that was mostly bathed in darkness.  As promised, Spencer was still at her bedside, his hand curled on top of hers as he slept at what had to be an uncomfortable angle.  She took a moment to just look at him.  He wasn’t as disheveled as he had been when she first woke up, but he was dressed very similarly.  He was wearing fresh clothes, a blue shirt that had previously been white, a brown sweater that had previously been blue.  His hair was still a mess, but it wasn’t as unruly as it had been. A few strands had fallen into his face, and she wanted to push them out of the way.  She wondered if they were that close.  She looked down at his hand, long thin fingers softly covering hers. She flipped her hand over so they could be palm to palm.  Something tickled the back of her mind but stayed firmly behind the veil.  He stirred at her small movement.

“Darcy?” he asked groggily.

“Hi Spencer,” she whispered.

“You remember my name?”

“No.  I’m sorry.  Jane told me.”

“It’s okay,” he said as he fully came awake. He stretched, and then looked down at his hand holding hers. “I’m sorry,” he said, moving it away.

“Don’t,” she said, fingers closing on his wrist.  “Please? It’s just…there’s something there? I feel like I should remember this?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

His hand relaxed back into hers and she could practically feel the happiness roll off of him.  He pushed his hair out of his face with his other hand and she noticed something glitter in the light.  A ring.

“Are you…” she tried to think about what to ask.  He could be married.  He could just enjoy rings.  Would the her she couldn’t remember be with a married man?  He was patiently waiting for her to finish her thought.  “Are you in, uh, a legal contract of the romantic variety?”

His lips quirked up at her phrasing.  “Yes, I am married.”

Oh god.  She _was_ the type of woman to be with a married man.  She wanted to be disgusted with herself, but she also couldn’t fault her taste.  But she was a _homewrecker_.  And he was probably a monster of some sort to be cheating on his wife.

Her emotional turmoil must have shown on her face.  “I can’t be sure what you’re thinking, of course, but I’m not cheating on my wife.” Maybe he was a widower?  That was a lot more palatable.  He was young for it, but it happened.  She relaxed a bit.  They might not even be together.  Everyone seemed to be hinting that they were, but then Dr. Cox had also said he was sick of awkward sexual tension.  Maybe they were in a strange friendship stage while he finished grieving and this was some sort of special moment that would make him realize he was or wasn’t ready to be with her (if she could just remember him).  “Darcy,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts, “of course I want you to remember, but I can wait for it to happen.  And if It doesn’t, we’ll just figure it out.  I’m pretty sure there was some romantic comedy you made me watch that had just this as a plot line.  I’ll reenact it for you if I have to.”

She kind of wanted to make him do that even if she did remember.  Also, interesting that he was willing to reenact a _romantic_ comedy for her.  She needed to consider what that meant.

He squeezed her hand. “Don’t get upset about it.  That won’t help.”

“I really need to pee!” she blurted out.  Because she needed to, but also because she wasn’t sure what to do with this conversation while so much was going on in her mind.

“I’ll, errr, call the nurse. Unless you want me to help you…?”

“I think I can make it if you just help me up.”  He helped her to her feet and shadowed her to the attached bathroom.  Once she was behind the closed door she took a deep breath and calmed her mind.  She still didn’t know what was exactly the deal with her and Spencer (Dr. Spencer?), but it wasn’t homewrecking, and he seemed into her. (Unless her amnesia addled brain was misinterpreting that too.  Is that a thing that could happen?) She looked at the neat row of stitches on her leg while she peed.  They were three lines total, maybe 20 total stitches, and the lines were already starting to heal. She washed her hands, splashing her face with some water too before trying to finger comb the mess that was on her head.  Ugh.  Being in a hospital was hell on your looks.  It said a lot that he wasn’t turned off by the serious bird’s nest that had been constructed atop her head.  When she saw Jane again, she would have to ask for some shower products.

When she opened the bathroom door back up, Spencer leapt from the chair to help her back into the bed. “You should be sleeping in a bed. Being in a chair while I sleep has to be miserable.”

“You asked me to be here,” he said simply.

“You’re too sweet to be real,” Darcy sighed.  “How did we meet?”

He chuckled a bit and ducked his head.  “At a coffee shop.  I recognized you from you from a paper you had presented at a symposium I attended two days earlier.  You were very nice to me.  Even bought my coffee and asked me to sit and chat.  We talked until both our phones started ringing to remind us we had actual jobs.”

“I don’t know what my job is,” she said with an annoyed frown.

“It will come back to you. You’re very good at it.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.  I want to remember.  I don’t want to have to be told.”

He sighed, taking her hand in his again.  “We don’t know if this is permanent.”

“If it is, then you can tell me.”

“Deal.”

They sat quietly for a moment while his thumb idly stroked her hand.  She yawned and he readjusted himself in the chair.  “Are you going to stay?” she asked, looking at the chair.

“Unless you want me to leave.”

“No!  No.  That’s not what I meant.  It’s just, that chair doesn’t look very comfortable.”

He looked around the room. “I don’t see any other options.”

Darcy looked around too and then scooted in the bed.  “Here,” she said making room.  “It’s not huge, but it’s better than that chair.”  She didn’t have an IV, and removed the monitor cables when she had woken up.  She patted the empty space she had made.  “Unless we’re not that friendly,” she added when she saw he hadn’t moved.

“We’re that friendly,” he said slowly.  “It’s just, I don’t want to jeopardize your recovery at all.”

She blew a raspberry. “You won’t crush me.  Get up here, Spencer.  Spencer whose last name I don’t know.”

“Reid,” he said as he stood up.  “My last name is Reid.”

“Well then, Spencer Reid, I’m Darcy Lewis and I’d like you to join me.”

He gingerly joined her on the bed, trying to take up as little room as possible.  She noticed that he was trying not to touch her much, though she wasn’t sure if that was him attempting to be a gentleman or if he just didn’t want to touch her.  At the moment, she was too tired to care.

“Goodnight Spence,” she said softly as her eyes started to flutter shut again.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he said as she lost the fight with her eyelids.  She thought he had maybe kissed her temple, but it was too soft to be certain.

The next morning she was awoken by soft but insistent whispering.  She wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet.  She could tell it was Clint and Jane, but she didn’t know if she wanted to face them.  Instead she rolled tighter into the warmth at her side.  In the back of her mind she knew it was Spencer, that this was something she had done before, but the thought wasn’t pushing its way forward enough to be more than a dream.  However, she knew the moment he woke up too when his hand tightened around her side and then pulled away.  She whimpered a little at the loss.

“Will you guys be quiet?” he whispered.  “She needs her sleep.”

“Sorry Dr. Reid,” Clint said without a hint of actual sorrow at all.

“Clint, I’ll tase you,” Darcy murmured.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Spencer complained, completely shifting away from her.  “She’s awake.”

“Are you sad because she needs more sleep or because even with amnesia and being unclear who you are she still groped you in the night and we stopped that?”

Darcy heard Jane smack Clint.  “Thanks Janey,” she said finally twisting and opening her eyes.  Her ribs gave a groan of protest, but luckily she hadn’t actually fully turned to her side in her sleep.  “Can I help you?”

Clint held out a Starbucks cup and a card.  “The team feels pretty bad about you being here.  They sent me because they knew you’d remember me.”  

Spencer took the cup and card from Clint, getting out of the bed and moving the bedside table over her before placing both items on it.  She sniffed the cup.  “My favorite,” she said with a smile.  “But am I allowed to have it?” she asked before she let herself pick it up.

“Dr. Cox said yes,” Jane said.

“Perfect.”  She grabbed the cup and took a big sip.  “So good,” she hummed before picking up the card. Inside was a little note from every Avenger plus a Starbucks gift card.  “Do I….Do I know all of you now?”

Clint gave a pained smile. “Yeah D, you do.  That’s why It’s me and not Steve or Nat.”

“I’m on a first name basis with the Black Widow?”

“Yeah.”  Clint looked very uncomfortable.  

“I demand to see her then because that is SO AWESOME.”

Jane laughed before holding out a bag.  “Clint brought coffee, but I brought all your toiletries.”

“Jane, have I told you lately that you’re my favorite?”

“Well, I’m no Natasha.”

“Doesn’t matter. Favorite.”

“After your coffee, I can get nurse Carla to come and we can get you in the shower.  Maybe that will help you feel like yourself again.”

“Thanks Jane. Apparently my life is super cool. I just need to remember it now.”

A few hours later Darcy was getting out of a shower that had seriously been life affirming.  She felt more like herself than she had since any moment when she had woken up.  She carefully shrugged on the clothes that Jane had grabbed, smiling at the oversized Land of Enchantment sweatshirt and loose jeans that reminded her of crazy times in the desert.  When she came out of the bathroom, the room was empty.  She frowned.  Where was Spencer?

A noise at the door drew her attention.  Spencer was in the hall with a man that was older than him.  If they looked alike at all she would have thought they were father/son based on their body language, but the man was shorter and very Italian, so that seemed unlikely. The man saw her, smiled, and patted Spencer on the shoulder.

“Oh, hey Darcy,” he said turning.  “Are you okay?  Do you need help?”

“Just sore, but feeling much cleaner than I have in quite a while.”  She waved to the man.  “Hi person I’m guessing I should know.”

“You’re taking this much better than I would,” he said.  “Dave Rossi. I work with Spencer.”

“Well, nice to meet you Mr. Rossi.  You look like a nice guy. So hopefully I’ll remember you. Also, by any chance do you know how to French braid?  You look like someone that had sisters or daughters.”

“You should be asking Spencer,” he said with a sly smile.  “He’s got magic hands.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but said, “I can braid your hair if you want.”

“I’ll let you get to it then.  I’ll tell the team you say hi.”

They both said goodbye and then moved back over to the bed.  “This will probably work best if you sit behind me on the bed,” Darcy said, climbing on to sit.  Spencer quietly joined her, sitting on his feet, knees straddling her hips.  His fingers got to work and Darcy felt that tickle at the back of her mind again. “Have you done this for me before?”

“I have.  Do you remember?”

“No,” she sighed.  “It just feels right.”  He continued on quietly.  It didn’t feel right.  Something was off.  “Why is this wrong?” she finally asked.

“Wrong?”

“It doesn’t feel totally right.  The braiding feels right but the quiet doesn’t.”

“Usually when I braid your hair you want to tell me about your day.” She could hear the smile in his voice, but she couldn’t decide if it was from remembering the past or her realizing something wasn’t right.

“Do you braid my hair a lot?”

“Only when you’ve had a long day and I’m actually home.  Almost always after I’ve come home after a long case.”

“Case?”

“I work for the FBI.” He held out his hand and she automatically plucked the hair tie from her wrist and dropped it into his hand. Huh.  Apparently her body remembered this.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.”  He started to pull back, but she placed a hand on his knee, stopping him.  When she was sure he wasn’t going to move away, she scooted until her back was against his chest and relaxed into him.

“This feels right too,” she whispered.

She felt him rearrange himself, unfurling his legs and adjusting the bed so he could lay back against it.  He curled his arms around her, and held her as she drifted off to sleep once more.

She didn’t sleep as long this time.  She could tell because the room wasn’t much brighter than it had been, even though it was a sunny day and daylight was pouring into the room.  In the corner of the room, Natasha was leaning against the wall, watching her.

“Do you remember me?” she asked.  Darcy shook her head no.  She could have been mistaken, but she thought Natasha’s shoulders slumped a bit.  “But you remember Dr. Reid?”

She shook her head no again, then added, “But my body does.  He braided my hair, and it felt like we had done that before.”

Natasha nodded and slid forward, holding out a bag that Darcy hadn’t noticed. “Maybe this will help.  There’s something from Pepper and I in there as well as something that I took the liberty of picking up for Dr. Reid.”  She felt Spencer continue to breath softly beneath her.  He must still be asleep.  “You two _are_ cute together, so remember him, please.”

Darcy leaned back with the bag in hand.  Before she could respond to Natasha the woman was gone.  She carefully upended the bag on her lap.  There was a brown paper bag as well as a small, wrapped box.  She picked up the box first and tore the paper off. Inside was a coffee mug with “bitches get stuff done” on it.  It had been dipped in glitter and the words were in a gold foil.  She loved it, but couldn’t think why Natasha and Pepper would give it to her.  Though, it didn’t feel odd to get the gift.  She put those thoughts aside and looked at the brown paper bag.  This must be what she had picked up for Spencer. She carefully unfolded the top.  A yellow carbon copy receipt fluttered out along with a small plastic bag.  Inside it was a ring.  She opened the bag and pulled out the ring, holding it carefully between her fingers. It was familiar to her.  She twisted it to look at it some more when Spencer’s hands took it from her.  She didn’t realize he had woken up.  He gently took her left hand and slid the ring onto her ring finger.  It slid right on, fitting perfectly.

She looked down at her hand and then twisted to look at him.  “It’s mine?” she said so softly she wasn’t sure he could hear her.

“It’s yours,” he agreed, his own voice cracking a little.  She could see the tears rimming his eyes but not falling.

“Because I’m yours.”

“Because you agreed to take me on, on a purely trial basis,” he corrected with a small smile that caused a few tears to drop.

“Because I’m yours,” she said again, more sternly, but with a sense of wonder.  She placed her hand on his face and wiped away the rogue tears with a sweep of her thumb.  “I’m sorry I forgot.”

“I can help you remember.”

“Does remembering involve kissing?”

“If you want it to,” he said with a half laugh.  That’s all she needed to hear.  She stretched just a bit to press her lips to his, her eyes fluttering closed while she allowed her body to remember what her brain couldn’t.  

Kissing him felt like coming home.  It felt natural and comfortable.  Every time he moved, whether his hands to hold her or his tongue to taste hers, it felt right. She felt safe.  And she knew that even if she never remembered, it would be okay because her body would always know.  She would make new memories with him if that’s what she needed to do.  But she really wanted to remember the old ones because he seemed rather fond of her, and she wanted to know what she had done to make him feel that way so she could do it again.

A throat cleared behind them.

“So I guess you remember him now,” Dr. Cox said with a shit eating grin.

“Nope,” Darcy said, eyes smiling. “But I did follow your excellent advice to try and hit it.”

“Well, we need to do some blood tests, but we think we know what caused the memory loss.  It was an interesting chemical cocktail that we think we’ve isolated. And once we know that you do, indeed, have the indicators, we can counteract it.”

“Good,” Darcy said with a smile.  “Though I was just getting excited about making him recreate all our favorite memories together.”

Spencer kissed her hair. “We can still do that.  Maye it will help you never forget them again.”

She was going to be fine. Her _husband_ was going to help make sure that happened.  And wasn’t that the best possible truth about who he was to her?


	10. Dancing Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We live next door to each other and I can see you through the window while you’re dancing to your iPod in your flannel pajamas and disheveled hair and God you’re a dork” AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I registered for my first graduate class, so enjoy this little one shot. Happy Valentine's Day!

The apartment in the building across from his had been empty for two full months, but not any longer.  He wasn’t sure exactly when his new neighbor had moved in (he had been in the field for over a week on a case), but she was very clearly there now.  She didn’t seem to even own curtains, which was helpful for his voyeuristic habits. It hadn’t started out quite so…creepy.  He had simply been reading in his chair when movement has caught his eye.  His new neighbor was dressed in old sweats and an oversized t-shirt, her hair in a messy ponytail as she danced around, clearly singing along to whatever song was playing while she moved boxes and unpacked. He was mesmerized by her happiness. She was also beautiful, but her carefree attitude while she did something most people loathe was captivating.  He had watched for several minutes before catching himself and looking away.

Several days later he came home very late after working a local case. Across the way, her lights were on again, this time she was in what looked like unicorn pajamas and had a bottle of wine with a crazy straw sticking out of it.  She was dancing and singing, and he could tell when the song changed from something upbeat to something more sedate. The way her body swayed brought his attention to her hips, and his eyes lingered.  Later he would wonder how, covered in sparkly, fuzzy material they could be so alluring, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off her.

The next night had included other people as well.  A group of three other women were over, all in their pajamas, dancing and singing into hairbrushes.  He had thought that was some sort of movie trope, but here it was, happening before his eyes, so maybe not. At one point they all did a choreographed dance to a song and collapsed in a heap laughing at the end. This time he wasn’t wanting her, but friendship like the one she seemed to have. He had closed the curtains that night, feeling like a creep when it was several women instead of just the one.

He was gone for a case, and when he came back, the light in her apartment was on, but no one was there.  Instead there was a small paper in the window that simply said “hello.”  He wasn’t sure what to make of that.  Was it just a comment to the world or was it directed at someone specific? And if it was aimed at someone specific, what was the likelihood it was him?  Statistically unlikely was the answer, but he still let himself imagine for a moment that it was meant for him. The next three nights in a row she danced, the last night for just a few moments before heading out.  She had been wearing a nice dress.  She was probably heading out to a date.  He wondered why he cared.

The next night there was a new sign.  “Yes you, 3rd floor.”  His heart skipped a beat.  He lived on the third floor. But so did three other people with windows that would face her building. But 1 in 4 was much more likely than he had originally imagined his odds to be.  He considered for just a moment before he decided to put his own note in his window.  He pulled out a legal pad and scribbled “Me?” and taped it to the window before he could talk himself out of it.  He almost ripped it out of the window when he got called into the office at 2 AM, but a small spark of hope that it was him and magic was real kept him from doing it.

He came home at 6 AM three days later wanting nothing more than to pull heavy curtains across his bedroom window and fall into bed, but across the way was a note that said, “Yes you,” which made him realize his mistake.  How many others had written something similar and put it in their window?  She could still be talking to someone that wasn’t him.  He taped up a new note. “If you mean me, put a mathematical constant on your paper.” He fell into bed for a full 10 hours, dead to the world.  He awoke to a sign that said “ _e_ ;)”.  His heart soared at the implication.

He realized, once he had a full stomach and a cup of coffee (even though it was 7 at night) that he didn’t have a clue what to say now. He half wrote several notes before throwing all the balled up papers away.  He sat in his chair and started to read.  Maybe a book would provide an answer.  It didn’t, but she did.  She was dancing again, this time in a sports bra and athletic shorts.  The sign asked, “What are you reading?”  This he could do.

The messages went back and forth like this for several weeks.  He learned that she danced to all sorts of music (she now had a separate paper with a “song of the day”), she worked on the hill, and missed her best friend.

He still didn’t know her name.

But today was different.  Today the note said “Coffee?  With me?”  He frowned.  “Can’t.” his note read.  “Work trip.”  He was gone for four days.  “I’ll be there at 6 every day” the new note said when he strolled in at 5.  He threw his bag on the ground and hopped in the shower.  There were three coffee shops in a 5 block radius of their buildings, but she had to mean the tiny hole in the wall just a block away.  He hastily dressed and practically ran out the door. He got there at quarter till and ordered a drink, settling in at a small table for two, facing the door.  If she was coming, she’d see him.

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, she walked in, obviously tired, but her whole posture changed when she saw him.  She walked over and sat down across from him.  “Before I go get a drink, I’m dying to know what your name is.”

“Spencer,” he said.  “Spencer Reid.”

She held out her hand.  “Hi Spencer.  I’m Darcy Lewis, and I will be right back.”  She left her jacket and went to the counter to order her drink.  They sat in their little corner until the place closed four hours later, and then he walked her back to her building before heading over to his own.  In her window was a note that read.  “I’d love to do that again.”

He smiled and picked up his phone, shooting off a picture of him holding a sign that said, “Me too.”


	11. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Greennonmonster  
> "Can you just hold me and stroke my hair?"

Darcy looked up from her laptop and popped out one of her headphones. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing that important,” Spencer said from the couch. “Finish your paper.”

She pulled the other headphone out and closed the lid on her laptop. “Ehhh, I need a break. I’m trying to revise, but I think I need some space from it.” She moved from the small table and joined him on the couch. “So, again, what did you say?”

“I’m just glad you’re here.”

Darcy was 95% certain that wasn’t what he had said, but she let it slide. “I’m glad I’m here too,” she said, cuddling up to his side. “I’m glad I was able to finish up online and be with you, in person, for a change.” He scooted until he was able to rest his head on her shoulder, and she immediately pulled her arm around his shoulder to make both of them more comfortable. 

“I don’t want you to go again,” he said so quietly she almost thought she imagined it. She didn’t respond. Instead, she just ran her fingers through his hair, occasionally scratching her fingers on his scalp. She didn’t want to go again either. It seemed like their entire relationship had been nothing but both of them leaving. First she had left for New Mexico. Then he had left for the FBI. She went to London; he traveled the country; she went to grad school. But now? Now she was two months from done, and she had spent the last month here with him (though he had only been in town for about half of it). 

“I’ve been thinking,” she said in a low voice. He tilted his head toward her a bit to let her know he was listening. “I’ll be graduating soon, and I’ve been working out what I should do next.” She felt him tense a little. “I was thinking I’d like to stay here...if you’d let me.”

He turned in his seat toward her, his smile as much of an answer as anything he could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnndddd...slowly I reemerge from a pile of academic books to hand you this scribbled on a scrap of notebook paper.


	12. Haven't Met You Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is HKThauer's fault.

Spencer absentmindedly rubbed his hip bone, a habit he had developed when he was very young whenever he was uncomfortable. Not everyone had a soulmate, but he did, and being able to touch their words always helped ground him. 

“You pull something?’ Morgan asked him, his eyes crinkling in concern. 

“Huh? No?” Spencer said.

“Then what’s up with that?” he asked, gesturing to his hand. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. Now he wished he had been paying more attention so he could have smoothly lied.

Prentiss gently hit Morgan’s arm. “Don’t,” she said.

“What?” Morgan asked, perplexed. “What am I missing?”

“Leave the boy alone,” she commanded.

Spencer hadn’t told his team he had a soulmate. He didn’t want to closely examine why that was, but it partially was because she was  _ his _ , and he didn’t want to share her until he had to. It also might have had to do with his father and some words he had said that he didn’t think Spencer could hear. Suffice to say, people had varying opinions on soulmates, and he was happy to not hear them if he didn’t have to.

So while he hadn’t said anything, that hadn’t stopped Prentiss from figuring it out. Maybe others too, but she was the only one that had said anything to him about it. She had simply said, “You’ll meet them someday, and they are going to be so lucky to have you.” And then she had never said anything again.

Spencer thought about her. A lot. He was 93% certain his soulmate was a woman based on her handwriting. He had imagined a million scenarios where they would meet, what she could look like, what his words to her would be. But in the end, it didn’t matter. He was already in love with her, and was ready to show her that love someway new each and every day.

He had started the notebook when he was thirteen and old enough to really analyze romantic movies and books. He had pages and pages of different ways to say he loved her. He had written a letter to her every year on his birthday since he was fifteen and carefully placed them in a small box he would someday be able to hand to her.

There were twelve letters in the box. He was starting to wonder how many more there would be before he got to share it with her.

“You’re missing Garcia trying to flag you down,” Prentiss said to Morgan, pulling him out of his soulmate daydream.

Morgan narrowed his eyes like he knew that they were keeping something from him, but left without a fight.

“Thanks,” Spencer said, dropping the folder he had been looking through onto her desk. “You ready?”

“Let me send off this email first,” she said, sitting back down and getting right to typing.

That was fine with Spencer. His latest favorite way to spend a few minutes was thinking about what it would be like to finally be able to introduce his soulmate to the important people in his life. Today he was thinking about how his mom would react.

_ “Spencer!” his mom said, “I didn’t know you were coming. You didn’t call.” _

_ “I know,” he said with a smile, squeezing his soulmate’s hand. “I wanted to surprise you.” _

_ “And who’s this?” she asked, but her eyes lit up like she already knew. _

_ “Mom, this is my soulmate,” he said as his soulmate stepped forward to shake his mom’s hand. _

_ “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. Her voice was like a chiming bell. “Spencer’s told me so much, and I had to meet the woman who’s responsible for giving me him.” _

_ “So nice to meet you,” his mom said, pulling her in for a hug. “You’re perfect. I can just tell. Mothers always can, you know.” _

“Let me grab my bag,” Prentiss said, pulling him out of his thoughts for the second time in five minutes, “and then we can get going.”

Twenty minutes later they were outside the bakery that Garcia had ordered Rossi’s birthday cookies from. She had claimed it was the only place she could find that made these specialty Italian cookies that Rossi loved, but Spencer took in the storefront and wondered if it had more to do with Penelope just liking the feeling of the store.

“This place is cute,” Prentiss said as they walked in. The space was small but not cramped. The walls were a breezy aquamarine color which was accented by the slate grey of the countertops, pale blue of the wooden chairs, and the summery yellow signs in the display case. 

“Just a moment!” a voice called from the back. “Helen! Can you greet while I wash my hands?”

A woman that had been sitting alone at one of the tables hopped up and ran behind the counter. She took a moment looking both of them over.

“I hope you’re here for a special order, and you like what you see,” the woman said with a suggestive wink to Emily.

“Helen!” the voice from the back chastised.

“I guess soulmates are a kind of special order,” Prentiss said with a hungry smile. “And I like what I see.”

“Darcy get out here right now because I’m going to make out with my soulmate and not run your business for you.”

“Stay out of the back and we’re good,” said the woman emerging from the back, drying her hands on her apron. Spencer was fairly certain his mouth was hanging open. No wonder Prentiss had been so perceptive about soulmates; she had a mark too. He had had no idea. “And if you’re going to show her your mark, please don’t do so in front of the window. That’s probably a health code violation.”

She turned her smile on Spencer. “Meeting soulmates is a perfect reason to close for the day, don’t you think?” she asked with a wink.

He blinked. He had always assumed she would say that in response to him. He swallowed and took a long look at her. She was covered in flour. The bag must have exploded on her because it was smudged across her cheeks and even in her hair. She had on an apron that was the same yellow as the signs in the case, and her hair was soft waves framing her face. She had on red lipstick, and he suddenly had the urge to find out if it would come off on him when he kissed her.

“Or not,” she said awkwardly.

He had been quiet too long, he realized. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be so beautiful. It took me by surprise,” he said.

Her eyes widened and her hand went to her chest, just under her left breast. “ _ You _ ,” she said softly.

The stood there, staring at each other for several seconds, neither seemingly able to move.

“I wrote you letters,” he said finally.

“I made you playlists for every important event in my life.”

They were still standing several feet apart, and it was like they realized it at the same moment. As he stepped forward, she hopped the counter, and suddenly they were crowded into each other’s space.

“How did I get so lucky?” she asked. “Not only did I get a soulmate, but it’s you?”

“You don’t know anything about me yet,” he said, even though he felt exactly the same way.

“Then we better fix that,” she said, going on her toes to kiss his cheek before sliding behind him. “Helen, I’m closing and going upstairs. Feel free to close the blinds and stick around down here.”

He looked over to the corner where Helen was sitting in Emily’s lap, running her fingers through her hair.

“Why?” Helen asked.

He heard the lock click into place. “Because  _ he’s  _ mine ,” she said, and he could hear the delight in her voice.

Prentiss’s head shot up. “Congrats Reid,” she said with a languid smile. “And if Dr. Cho doesn’t mind, I think we’ll head out. My place isn’t that far.”

Helen hopped up and held out her hand to Prentiss. “Let’s go!”

Prentiss laughed at her soulmate’s eagerness. “You better text Garcia and tell her you’re not coming back,” Emily said as Helen pulled her to the door that Darcy unlocked and then relocked behind them, pulling the blinds quickly before taking his hand. 

“C’mon soulmate. My apartment’s upstairs and I just updated my ‘I just met you’ playlist, though I guess I should take off ‘Haven’t Met You Yet’ since that’s no longer true.”

“Lead the way,” he said, feeling a thrum of excitement as she led him toward a door in the back. He finally had met her, and she was so much more than he ever could have imagined. 


	13. Now Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Spencer need to kiss already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Dresupi who inspired me with her Take a Chance on Me 70s song prompt. (Go check it out! It's lovely!)

Darcy had been Spencer’s neighbor for two years, three months, five days, fourteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes. (He would argue with her that it was eighteen days, but that was her move in date and not the date they actually met, so she declared it didn’t count. He said she wasn’t being precise. She maybe clung to her counting because of how cute he looked when he would try and argue with her and his eyebrows would scrunch together. “But Spencer,” she would say, “we weren’t truly neighbors until we met!” And then he’d be off.)

She wished she could pinpoint when, exactly, it was that she fell in love with him, but much like Fitzwilliam Darcy (her namesake, so it fit), she was in the middle of it before she even had realized she had begun. She was fairly certain that he was in love with her too, but they were living in some sort of awkward, frustrating hell where neither of them had the courage to say or do anything about it. 

Which is to say, when she found herself in his apartment watering his plants when he came home from what had been a miserable case, all she wanted was to pull him close and comfort him. And then maybe snog him senseless. You know. To make him feel better. 

He stood in his doorway looking at her, and she stood trapped in his gaze, barely remembering to tilt her watering can back up lest she drown the poor plant.

“Darcy.” Her name was a breath; an exhale that punched her in the gut.

“Spence,” she responded; his name round and full in her mouth, tinged with longing she felt deep in her bones.

His bag slid off his shoulder and onto the floor, but she wasn’t sure he noticed. He was still stuck in place, his eyes tracing her.

“I should…,” she trailed off. 

Coward. That was the word for her. She set the watering can under the windowsill where he kept it and started toward the door. He had stepped fully into the room, but when she got to the door he called to her.

“Darcy,” his voice was tight. She looked back to him and he was reaching out to her.

“Spence?”

All at once he had crossed the space between them and was crowding into her, pressing into her crevices without touching her.

He stared down at her for one beat and then two before suddenly his lips crashed into hers, and she let out a sigh and melted into him, winding her hands around his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer, trying to infuse herself with him as he kissed her needily, like he might never get to do it again. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her tight against him.

She felt like she had been kissing him forever, and she was breathless and flushed when they finally pulled apart.

“Don’t go,” he whispered into her hair.

“I won’t,” she said, pushing the door shut with her foot before chasing his lips again.

They had been neighbors for two years, three months, five days, fourteen hours, and forty-eight minutes; and they had been kissing for zero years, zero months, zero days, zero hours, and eleven minutes. She hummed happily against his lips, and she could feel him smiling too.


	14. Purl One, Kiss Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer stumbles into a knitting group after a rough case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Nix!
> 
> Also, I have another 2K or so written for this, but it's clearly going to be something monster if I keep going, which I don't have time for at the moment (refer to title of this fic collection for why). HOWEVER, that also means that I have something to plod away at as a study break, so the longer fic might still happen. For now, enjoy this little piece.

Darcy looked around her small knitting group. There were a few older women, most of them grandmothers that had been knitting for years, a few middle aged women, and two early twenties ladies. There was also one 50-ish man that came regularly and loved to regale everyone with stories about his late wife. She had been the knitter, and he had decided to learn to keep her memory close always. He always made hats and blankets for charity, never keeping anything for himself.

Darcy loved her group. They didn’t often get new members, but sometimes someone would wander into the alcove where they met to see what they were doing. Occasionally they would get someone who would join for just the day.

No matter what had happened during her week, though, she had her Tuesday nights with her knitting group, and it made everything right in the world.

Today they were chatting about plans for the summer when a rumpled man dropped down into one of the free chairs. He was dressed like someone that had been in their work clothes a few hours too long, and his hair was a bit wild, sticking up like he had been running his hands through it recently. He said nothing.

Everyone shot a look at Darcy who just shrugged and continued on. He looked like he needed to be around people, but not necessarily talk to them. He looked a bit haunted, honestly.

“So yeah, I’ll be visiting Jane in two weeks, so I hope you’ll be fine without me,” she said.

“You going to have that blanket done?” Cass asked her, nodding at the intricate design she was working on.

“I better,” Darcy said with a smile. “Can’t meet the baby with nothing to give.”

“Ahhh, you have lots to give,” Carl said good naturedly, “regardless of the blanket. You have your smiles and your love and your friendship, and those are gifts enough.”

Darcy chuckled. “You kind of sound like her husband. Of course, he’d say it a bit more sarcastically.”

“Yeah, well-”

“I learned from the best; my wife,” everyone chimed in, repeating his often used phrase.

There was quiet laughter to go with the soft sounds of needles clicking together.

“How’d your date go, Darcy?” Rosa asked.

Darcy groaned. “Terrible,” she said with a sigh. “He was late, spent most of the night looking at my chest, and then asked if I was going to perform sexual favors on him.”

“Ouch,” several of them said with a grimace. She noticed that their silent guest also had cringed a bit at that and was looking at her now.

“Someday I’ll meet someone worth my time,” she said, dismissing their concerns. “But for now I’m perfectly fine. Besides, my job is crazy. I don’t need to stress about bad dates. I just add them to my list of amusing stories that make up my life.”

“How’d you get so well adjusted?” Ari asked. “You’re always so calm.”

“A lot of crazy shit,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “ _ Those _ stories are the real fun, and some of them aren’t even classified anymore.”

Darcy rarely actually spoke about her past, and most people assumed she was referring to her government job that she always spoke about in vaguarities. She let them think that because in some regards it was true. But her really crazy past was wrapped up in Thor and Jane, and later other Avengers. Her job as a liaison between Stark Industries and the government was nothing in comparison. 

Technically she was free to talk about Thor now that all the SHIELD files had dropped, but she kept her mouth shut. Sometimes she still had nightmares, and talking about New Mexico or London always brought them on.

Her hands shook a bit and she dropped her project into her lap for a moment while they stilled. She looked up. No one had noticed she had stopped except for the quiet man who quickly looked away when he realized he had been caught watching.

Everyone kept up the chatter, and eventually she joined back in the conversation, though perhaps a little less enthusiastically than before.

Soon their two hours were over, and everyone started packing up their things and saying their goodbyes, but the man still sat in his chair. Carl gave her a look, but she waved him off. When her yarn and needles were safely tucked into her bag, she went and sat in the chair next to the man.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You okay?”

He swallowed before looking at her, and she realized he was younger than she had originally thought. He was probably about the same age as her. “Work was really rough,” he said. “Thank you for letting me sit here.”

“Of course,” she said, but didn’t move. Years of working with people who had “seen shit” told her to stay put.

“The needles clicking is a really soothing sound and everyone here was so nice. You all left me alone. Thank you.”

“If you wanted to talk, you would have.”

They sat quietly for a few more moments. She considered taking his hand, but he had them tightly clasped together, leaning on his elbows propped on his knees, his head hanging down. She saw him look over at her through his hair.

“Could you teach me?” he asked.

“To knit?”

He nodded. 

“Absolutely,” she said immediately, “but I can’t start tonight. Meet me back here tomorrow?”

“What time?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I can make it here by 6. Does that work for you?”

He nodded, and she wanted to crush him into her in a strong hug, but resisted.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said standing up. “I’m Darcy, by the way. In case you didn’t hear others call me that earlier.”

“I did,” he said with a small smile, getting up. “I’m Spencer.” He didn’t offer his hand.

“Then I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Spencer,” she said with a smile before turning and walking away.

* * *

She had spent the whole day thinking about her meeting with Spencer. She had tried to do the nonchalant cool thing by not looking back after she left, but she couldn’t help herself. She had looked back and saw him watching her leave. He had smiled at her, and suddenly she knew he was trouble. That smile had lit up his face, and suddenly he wasn’t the overwhelmed man that had been hunched over in her knitting group; but instead an attractive man that ticked all her boxes.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been fantasizing about Spencer, a man she had spoken all of a hundred words to. Which was a Thing with her. Capital T and all. She always did this. She always fell right away for men that were tall and reedy, and typically smart. She didn’t know if Spencer was smart, but he probably was. He dressed like every one of her young professor fantasies, so she hoped so, anyway. There had been Tanner and then Shamar and then Ian; each and every one her perfect hot genius.

She sighed. Why was she like this?

She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing. She needed to get herself together before she met with him. He had likely just dealt with something traumatizing and didn’t need her being predatory and pining over him.

She gripped the strap of her bag a little tighter as she walked into the library. She was a grown ass woman. She had this.

He was already waiting for her in the alcove. He was wearing a patterned button up shirt with a cardigan over it and a sloppily knotted tie. He had on dress pants, and his hair was a little more controlled. He wasn’t nearly as rumpled, and he smiled at her when he saw her approaching.

She absolutely did not have this.

“Hi Darcy,” he said when she was standing in front of him. “Thank you for coming back.”

“My pleasure,” she said, hoping that she wasn’t blushing. She sat down and he took the seat next to her. She busied herself with pulling out some needles and yarn, handing him some supplies once she had pulled them out.

“Okay, these are for you to use. I went with a chunkier needle and yarn because they’ll be easier to start out with and you’ll feel like you’ve accomplished more because the kitting will be larger. It’s also easier to see what you’re doing well and where you make mistakes.”

He was listening to her intently, and she could feel herself start to flush under his watch. “Sounds like a good place to start,” he said.

She took her own needles and started to demonstrate.”This is casting on. It’s how you start a project,” she said, moving slowly so he could watch her actions. “Now you,” she said.

He started emulating her movements, and she watched as he slowly, but correctly followed her lead.

“Awesome,” she said when he finished. “You’re already a pro. Let’s try this,” she said, picking up her needles again. “We’ll start with the knit stitch and do several rows of it until you feel comfortable with it.” She again showed him the stitch in slow, precise movements until he gave a nod and picked up his own needles again to give it a try. His fingers were a little awkward, but he was getting the basic movement right.

“Do you mind if I help a little?” she asked, gesturing to his hands. He nodded once, and she carefully placed her hands over his, changing his grip and lightly guiding the needles for him. “See how that feels different?” she asked, her voice a whisper even though she hadn’t intended it to be.

“I do,” he replied just as softly if a bit hoarsely. She did two more stitches with him before releasing his hands and letting him continue on his own.

His hands had been warm and soft with some calluses on his fingers, and she wanted to hold them again. Instead she continued on with her own row.

When he finished the row, she guided him to start the next row, continuing on with the knit stitch, and they sat quietly as he did three more rows.

“Ready to learn your next stitch?” she asked.

He held up his work to show her. “What do you think?”

She took his knitting in her hands and looked at it, feeling the stitches beneath her fingers. “You’ll need to work on your tension a bit, but that’s always an issue for new knitters. Other than that, it looks pretty good to me.” She looked up at him and realized his eyes were on her hands.

He looked up and blushed a bit, and she felt her stomach swoop. “Show me what’s next then.”

“Let’s learn how to purl,” she said with a smile.

They spent the next two hours sitting closely together, practicing their stitches. She occasionally helped him with his hand placement and showed him how to pick up a dropped stitch and how to alternate the knit and purl stitches to create different patterns.

By the end of it she was totally fucked. He was hot, sincere, and a perfect gentleman who possibly also was a bit into her if she wasn’t projecting her own wishes onto everything.

He shyly asked her if she might be free again tomorrow to help him learn some more, when they finished up.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound overly eager. “But my work schedule can be a bit unconventional. I should give you my number in case I don’t show up.”

“I know a thing or two about unconventional schedules,” he said with a shy smile. “Exchanging numbers is probably a good idea.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. She quickly entered her number and handed it back.

“Text me so I’ll have your number,” she said. “I promise I won’t abuse it.”

He gave a short puff of a laugh and she waved at him and left. Once she was out of the library, her phone buzzed with a new message.  **You could text me all day and I wouldn’t consider it abusing my number.**

She might have swooned a little.

* * *

 

For every day until she left to see Jane they met at a different spot for a lesson and coffee or bakery treats or just really great views. She had taught him different skills, and he had shared random facts and funny little anecdotes. That’s how she learned that he worked for the FBI and all his friends were his coworkers. She found out why he had been so haunted that first night, and that he had eclectic taste in pretty much everything.

And most importantly, she learned that she was loathe to leave him when she went to visit Jane for a week. She had gotten used to seeing him every day.

“It’s going to be strange not meeting with you tomorrow night,” she said on their last night before her trip.

“We’re actually lucky that I haven’t been called out into the field at all since we started,” he said, looking out over the river. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “I hope it’s not presumptuous, but I made you something. To take with you. If you want to.” He was clearly nervous.

“Ohh!” she said, excited. “Show me!”

Her enthusiasm seemed to ease his nerves and he reached down into his bag and pulled out a small mass, handing it to her.

She took it from him and examined it. It was an aqua hat with a lacy trim on the bottom. The yarn was soft and delicate. “This is amazing,” she said, gently rubbing the knit against her cheek.

“You don’t have to wear it. I know there are some problems with it, but I wanted to make you something.”

“Spence! You  _ made _ this? For  _ me _ ?” She could feel herself getting emotional at the thought. “You’re so thoughtful and talented. Thank you,” she said looking at him with watery eyes. “I’m going to wear it every day.”

He blushed high on his cheeks and at the tips of his ears. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I don’t,” she agreed, no longer in danger of crying. “But I’m going to miss you and this will help.”

“You’re going to miss me?” he asked, his voice a touch hopeful.

“Of course I am,” she said. “We might not have known each other long, but you’ve quickly become one of my favorite people.”

“I’ll still have my phone,” he said with a small smile.

“I’ll have to make do with that,” she said with an answering smile.

They sat by the river for a few more minutes before packing up their things and going their separate ways. She watched him walk away and realized she was totally screwed. She looked at the hat that was still in her hand and thought that maybe he maybe just a little bit screwed too.


End file.
